


Connecting The Lines

by unbroken_halo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: H/D Glompfest, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voyeurism, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-03 00:25:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbroken_halo/pseuds/unbroken_halo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life after the war undergoes some interesting changes for Harry when he sets about trying to find his place in the scheme of things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Edenise, it was a bit intimidating writing this for someone who actually knew about the condition/situations, but I was very intrigued by your prompt and it sparked an ambitious idea. I only hope I did the profession, research, and the story justice for you and that you enjoy it. I didn't make 50K but I tried. Thanks to my beta for her advice and help, and the mods for the extra time and patience I asked for to finish this up properly.

**Author:** [](http://unbroken-halo.livejournal.com/profile)[**unbroken_halo**](http://unbroken-halo.livejournal.com/)  
 **Beta:** [](http://witch-were.livejournal.com/profile)[**witch_were**](http://witch-were.livejournal.com/)  
 **Glomp For:** [](http://edenise.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://edenise.livejournal.com/)**edenise**  
 **Title:** Connecting The Lines  
 **Pairing(s):** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, Narcissa/Lucius  
 **Summary:** Life after the war undergoes some interesting changes for Harry when he sets about trying to find his place in the scheme of things.  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.  
 **Warning(s):** Wanking, voyeurism, innuendo, UST  
 **Epilogue compliant?** Not really, but I picked out bits and pieces from it as well as from both the interviews and Pottermore to use at random.  
 **Word Count:** 25,346  
 **Author's/Artist's Notes:** Edenise, it was a bit intimidating writing this for someone who actually knew about the condition/situations, but I was very intrigued by your prompt and it sparked an ambitious idea. I only hope I did the profession, research, and the story justice for you and that you enjoy it. I didn't make 50K but I tried. Thanks to my beta for her advice and help, and the mods for the extra time and patience I asked for to finish this up properly.

"Are you certain?"

Harry didn't hesitate. "I have to know."

Hermione sighed, but nodded. "I'll see what I can do. My parents were dentists and the difference between the two medical fields is very vast, Harry."

"I understand, but I think you can also agree that if I were to go to St. Mungo's there would be considerably more information leaked to the public about what happened during last year. Not to mention the panic caused by the thought of something being wrong with 'the Chosen One'." He scowled.

"That goes without saying. I just want to remind you that while wizards are human, they aren't Muggles."

"I trust you, and any advice that your parents have to give."

She gave him a quick smile. "I know you do."

Harry grinned. "How long until you return from Australia?"

"Not too much longer, I hope, so I am going to say next week. Maybe? I mean, they've built a life here, but now that the spell has been relieved, they are eager to return home. And so am I for that matter, not that this hasn't been an entirely wonderful and educational trip," Hermione trailed off and Harry wondered how much longer he would be able to hold up his end of the conversation if she continued on in this vein.

Hermione had been gone for six months and while he knew other Muggles as well as Muggleborns, there wasn't anyone else he could go to for this kind of thing. Besides, Hermione had been there and she knew exactly what had happened, even if Harry himself couldn't explain it that entirely well.

"So, you'll meet us at Heathrow?"

Her question brought Harry back. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

She waved away his question. "And you won't let Ron drive?"

Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at her. "No, I won't let him drive. Besides, George has him so busy we've hardly had the chance to even discuss more lessons."

"I'll work with him once I return."

"You need to rest, too," Harry offered.

Hermione laughed and it was almost the same as the girlish giggles he remembered when they were younger. Not that eighteen was ancient, but the difference, besides the depth of the laughter, was that it sounded entirely stress and care free. "What do you think I've been doing these past months?"

Harry shrugged and gave her a mischievous grin. "Don't rightly know, and I'm not certain I want to find out considering where you have been."

"Harry James Potter!" It was a squeal, but again, there was laughter in it and Harry joined in with her.

"I'll see you next week then?"

"So you were listening?"

Harry nodded. "Just because I look as if I'm not listening, doesn't mean I didn't hear what you said."

"That makes no sense, Harry."

"It does to me, so get some rest before the flight and I will be there to meet you all," He rushed the end of the conversation because the sensation was becoming too much to bear.

"Goodnight, Harry."

As soon as she vanished from the flames, Harry reared back from the hearth, coughing and running his tongue over the top of his teeth. The taste, though, didn't dissipate until he grabbed the bottle of water and chugged the entire contents. Still, the lingering taste of ash from the fire coated the top of his tongue and he couldn't shake the metallic tang of the Floo powder.

He flopped back onto the floor, his mouth and body still tingling from the magic of the Floo. Harry wasn't certain when he first began to notice the sensations, but he knew it was sometime after the war, after all the funerals and in that moment he realized it had been the first time he'd relaxed since he'd turned eleven. Since he'd found out about Voldemort and the Wizarding world, and the prophecy that would determine his life for the next however many years.

Even knowing what he did now, he wasn't certain he'd change any of it, because he was free. He could return to Hogwarts if he wished, the offer had been extended to those who had missed last year, but he didn't think that was quite right for him. He wasn't certain that after running about the country for a year, free of entanglements and authority, he could just go back to being a student.

Fred and George had seemed to be doing just fine without their N.E.W.Ts, although Hermione was considering going back. There was also the offer from Kingsley to consider. A direct shot into Auror training. Since his election as interim Minister, Kingsley had mowed through the Ministry, cleaning house as it were, and it had continued as the position became permanent.

Still, something about bypassing the rules and regulations of entering the training didn't sit right with him. It seemed almost the opposite of when Umbridge had tried to force him to deny Voldemort's return. Like he was taking advantage of the people's gratitude, or something, when so many others had also fought, some even dying, and they weren't rewarded as he had been.

Of course, no one he knew was affected as he had been either. He was certain that whatever he was experiencing now, while definitely different, was not normal. And not normal, while usual in the Wizarding world, wasn't always a good thing. His very life had taught him that. But this time, he was going to make certain that he didn't hide it. He'd learned that lesson. Hiding things bred contempt and anger. It led to grudges that festered or caused unmitigated disasters where innocent people were injured.

So, before letting the Wizarding world know that something had happened to their 'Saviour', Harry was going to see if it wasn't something mundane. He'd been dead, after all, and who knew what that did to a body?

As curious as the effects of his new sensitivity to magic were, and he was definitely fascinated by each and every spell cast and its effects, it was also forcing Harry into a place where he didn't want to be. He was almost a virtual prisoner in his home now. Because of the sensations he experienced, he'd had to turn down Kingsley's offer as well as decline the invitation to return to Hogwarts. It was bad enough trying to deal with his own _Accio_ spell and the taste of arid dryness across his tongue in response to the summoning.

Visiting Diagon Alley was a strain that he'd only endured once, and since then, he sent Kreacher, or asked Ron to pick up anything he might have needed. The small shopping arterial had taxed his patience to its limit, and he'd even gone early in the hopes of running into a small amount of people, minimizing his contact with both people and magic, all for naught. He'd fled Diagon Alley, choking on the taste of one of Neville's failed potions and a Weasley Wheeze treat gone bad.

Harry couldn't imagine what it would be like to experience the sensation of a huge amount of people's spells, let alone all the magic in use at Hogwarts or the Ministry. He'd recently discovered while cleaning and restoring Grimmauld Place that house elves' magic tasted of the cleaning formulas his Aunt Petunia used in her home. Kreacher had a vinegary-tart taste similar to the window solution she made Harry use before company came. _Scourgify_ left the taste of soap bubbles on his tongue and he'd brushed his teeth for fifteen minutes after casually casting the spell one afternoon when he'd wanted to clean the drapes in the room he'd chosen for himself.

Not all the magic tasted badly, though, and Harry likened it to eating a sack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Not his most favorite candy, but interesting nonetheless. Apparating from room to room was generally a fun thing and not just because it reminded him of Fred and George. He got a shivering sensation across his body, a chilled ice pop-like flavour across his tongue, reminding him of the treat he'd had at the zoo once.

One morning, in an effort to see if he could escape the taste sensations, Harry spent the day in a Bubble Head Charm. The charm itself left the flavor Harry thought was similar to Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, a fruity mix like the pink and blue bubbles the candy produced. But each spell he cast mixed with the gum's taste eventually if cast often enough.

He'd even tried using a different wand besides his repaired holly and phoenix feather one. Malfoy's hawthorn and unicorn hair wand still responded to his commands, albeit sluggishly. He wasn't certain why the wand wasn't working as well as it once had, but since he could still get sparks (mint if they were green, cinnamon if he spelled red ones), it was worth a try. The first big spell he'd cast with it, though, after discovering the sensitivity, had left him breathless. Literally. As a test, he'd filled a glass with _Augamenti_.

Harry held his breath as the spell took a moment to work, then the cool, clear water rushed into the glass and then he tasted the same water in his mouth. It filled him, and he swallowed but the sensation continued, flowing down his throat as if he'd cast the spell at his mouth instead of the glass. He panicked, swallowing rapidly to try and get past the sensation, but all he could think of was drowning. He thought he felt the water running out of his mouth and down his chin, onto his chest and he dropped Malfoy's wand, coughing and gasping as he forced himself to remember how to breathe properly.

He wasn't certain what the final nail in the coffin had been that pushed him into pursuing the medical aspect, but Harry thought it had to be the day he'd gone flying. The moment he'd mounted up on the Firebolt, the sensation of cotton fluff ghosted over his tongue and as he stepped off the sensation disappeared. Cushioning Charm on his broomstick, he decided, as he placed the taste with the magic. With a sigh, he went inside and grabbed his bottle of water before trying it again.

The drink of water combined with the Cushioning Charm gave him a wet dog taste that made Harry pull a face, but he was bound and determined to fly. He cast a Disillusionment charm over himself then gagged as the slimy, cold flavour of raw egg joined with the damp cotton. Dropping his broom in the small garden in the back lawn of Grimmauld Place, Harry raced inside to the kitchen sink.

He grabbed one of the toothbrushes he'd placed at every sink in the house and slathered tooth cleansing paste across the bristles. As he watched the blood stained foam swirl down the drain, Harry hung his head and decided that he had to do something more than his experiments and waiting for Hermione to return to help him.

Returning to Privet Drive was an experience. Aunt Petunia had been wary but she had his NHS number. It had been many years since he'd utilized the services, but since he was a resident, he was going to partake of them. If the services weren't speedy enough for his liking he could always take the option to go private and pay for it himself. However, he'd started with simplest method. The general practitioner Petunia had taken him and Dudley to for their vaccinations for school was able to see him.

The doctor was a genteel woman and immediately recommended that he see someone more qualified when he explained about having headaches and his sleep was disrupted. When he was told it would be months before he could see the neurologist, Harry took matters into his own hands. Dipping into the Black vaults, he forced his way into the sparse population of the specialists. He didn't have the time or inclination to wait months to figure out what was wrong with him. The past half year spent in near isolation at Grimmauld Place had nearly driven him spare, no matter what he'd accomplished with his experiments or his repairs.

He wasn't quite prepared to live as a hermit for the rest of his life. One way or another, Harry would find a solution to his problem. Armed with his GP's recommendations, he set out to visit Hermione and her parents for their opinions on the doctors.

~*~

 

 

Draco watched the last piece of the table from the drawing room be carried out by the helpers brought by the movers. It had been in the family for generations according to his father, a gift of some sort from a queen or some other royal, but all Draco could see was the body of Charity Burbage and the Dark Lord's bloody snake, Nagini, as she slithered across the surface of the polished wood. He refused to have it in the house any longer. It was just one of many furnishings that it was no longer acceptable to have in the manor and another of the ensuing arguments that had begun the moment Lucius had returned from the Ministry, and the rows had yet to be finished.

The battle of the manor had been waged for months since the end of the war, but it was one that he and Narcissa were winning with only a slight concession by Lucius. The actions of his parents weren't the only strangeness happening in Draco's world. The Wizarding world hadn't crumbled, but there had been this sort of stop gap followed by jubilation that filled the air. It made Draco wonder if the entire population hadn't gone mad. So many people were dead; _he'd_ nearly died! And yet, many acted as if nothing had occurred, as if there hadn't been a huge scrimmage on the grounds of an institution of learning.

Oh, there had been a brief period of mourning, and an even more intense few months where rampant justice had swept through, but it was nothing like the paranoia under the Dark Lord's reign. The suspicion was still there from Fudge's and Scrimgeour's regimes, but it had been tempered somewhat. The change seemed to come overnight, and that bothered Draco. Nothing ever changed instantly without some sort of ripple. But the Wizarding world was riding out the new peace wave like water over glass.

It was almost sacrilege in Draco's opinion, what had occurred, and what was still happening. Up until that night, he'd never realized just what was really important. After the terror, the fear, and the sunrise the morning after, sitting huddled between his parents inside the Great Hall, he'd come to a conclusion. His life had to change. His entire world had been torn asunder and very little of what he'd known rang true any longer. He just didn't know of how to go about it since he was most certainly going to end up in Azkaban.

Draco listened as his mother had calmly informed both he and his father that were it not for Potter, and Severus Snape, of all people, they all would most assuredly be dead. She would no longer tolerate the manipulation of her son for any means, and the first thing Lucius was going to do would be to make entirely certain that Draco was treated fairly for his part in what happened. If Lucius could wheedle his way out during the first war time, he would use what influence he had left, if any, to make amends for placing his son in the precarious position.

When Draco had opened his mouth to protest, all she gave him was a frosty look and Draco had clamped his lips together. Once her proclamation was finished, Narcissa led her family to the newly appointed Head Auror and asked for an audience with Harry Potter and the interim Minister.

Draco wasn't certain just exactly what all was said during that conversation, as Potter had cast some sort of spell that buzzed in his ears, but by the expressions on the faces of the Auror and his father, it had been an interesting one.

Though he never saw the money exchange hands, Draco knew it had occurred, because when the buzzing stopped, almost everyone left that conference with a look of satisfaction, even if some of the expressions were grim with it.

It wasn't long after that day in Hogwarts that they returned to the manor. The family grounds had been ransacked by their fellow Death Eaters, their home steeped in the blackness of the Dark Lord's taint. Narcissa commanded Lucius have their home cleansed and immediately took Draco abroad to outfit him with a new wand.

When they returned, Lucius had had the manor set to rights, but Narcissa had even more plans and set those in motion as well, and the rows began. Draco had never heard such a commotion between them before, but Lucius acquiesced to every one of her demands.

A touch brought Draco out of his ruminations and he smiled at Narcissa. Her eyes left his face then she glanced around the empty room. "We shall overcome this, too, Draco." She turned and faced Lucius, nodded at him. "It's time."

" _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper,_ " Lucius intoned and waved his wand at the wall.

Narcissa immediately followed it with a quick flick and Draco jumped to hear her add, " _Totalus_ ".

Lucius sighed, but nodded at her.

From the wall, a bright light shone, and a long, ornate pole emerged from a recess in the stone. The family tree, which had been put away before the Dark Lord had moved into the manor, Draco recalled, and he nodded. It seemed fitting to restore their home with this first, once everything else had been removed.

A banner began to unfurl, slowly, the colours long faded with age, but preserved with magic. Draco watched as the family crest appeared with the motto underneath, the words crawling across the banner's surface.

From the top, what appeared to be a vine slithered across the cloth, and then Draco remembered it wasn't a vine, but a serpent. The snake grew and thickened from the crest and names of his ancestors filled in. Generations and generations of Malfoys laddered down the snake's body then began to branch off into the Sacred Houses of Purity. Blacks, Lestrange, Rosier, and Greengrass, and, with a small gasp of shock, Draco noticed Weasleys and Potters begin to appear on the banner, too. Only here, the snakes had gaps without names or dates leading off these branches.

Narcissa had a look of deep contentment on her face as she nodded at the family tree, but Lucius' expression; the tight, tense setting of his mouth and the tiny lines at the corners of his mouth betrayed his dissatisfaction.

"What is wrong with the banner?" Draco eyed it and stepped forward, reaching out to touch the empty spaces.

"Nothing--" Narcissa began and Lucius spoke over her.

"It now displays _all_ the connections of the family. It is not well known, but there once was a time when Muggles were considered useful to the Malfoys and it is their gratitude that contributed to the family fortune," Lucius murmured. Draco strained to hear him even as he continued to study the lineage chart as more names he didn't recognize appeared. "However, most notable, if you will recall, recent events the Dark Lord mentioned are now visible, if not complete due to the Secrecy Act of 1692, and therefore, we have not condoned to include those we cannot completely claim as… proper ancestry."

Draco cringed and looked over his shoulder at his parents. Narcissa glared at Lucius, but Lucius ignored her, staring up at the banner with an odd sort of expression on his face.

"But there are half-bloods listed on here, if I read the line correctly." Draco turned back to the chart, staring at the names he recognized from Hogwarts and wondered which ones were Muggle, or even Muggleborn.

"Yes," Lucius drawled. "While some new blood is needed to carry on the lines it was acceptable in the past to allow the exception."

Narcissa moved to Draco's side. "It is time for a change, Draco. It may be too late for us, however; you are the future of the Malfoys and it is time for you to see the entire scope of possibilities that lay before you."

Narcissa stepped forward and touched her wand to the banner. A few names filled in; Yaxley, Burke and Crabbe, but still some blank spots remained. Her fingers hovered over Bellatrix Black Lestrange then graced to Andromeda Black Tonks, tracing the silvered letters. "I have a task for you, my son. Visit the new head of the Black family, Harry Potter, and bridge the gaps in the family."

Draco eyed her. "How is Potter head of the Black family?"

Lucius shook his head. "Politics and inheritance laws are just one of the myriad interests that can occupy a wealthy man of leisure's time."

"Or it could have been the simple matter of being unable to call upon the source available to us the previous time. The Black elf no longer responds to my summons as you are aware, Lucius dear," Narcissa scowled at him, and Draco rolled his eyes at them hoping that an impending discussion wasn't about to begin. Her face softened as she addressed Draco once more. "Subterfuge and manipulation rarely seem to work out well with Potter, as someone with any sort of head about them might have noticed. Fudge continually failed in this endeavour, as did Scrimgeour. The, as of late, unlamented Dark Lord can now be added to this number, so I suggest, Draco, that while you proceed with precaution, do so with honesty."

"I appreciate the advice, Mother, but what good is seeking out Potter going to do? He knows nothing of blood purity, heritage, or magic to finish out the banner. And I can almost guarantee that he'll not be amenable to a return trip to Wiltshire after his last visit here, no matter what the circumstances."

Narcissa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "There once was a Black Family home, much like the manor, although I sincerely doubt I will find it accessible. However, Potter might be able to locate it through Gringotts, and in doing so, he'll find the family tapestry. With his permission, it may be possible to tie the two lines together once more."

She opened her eyes and looked up at the banner, and Draco watched her fingers touch her sisters' names again. He glanced at his father, noticed the look of longing and desire of something he had directed at her before the mask of cool Malfoy indifference fell over his features. Lucius moved to stand next to Narcissa and though he did not touch her, she glanced over her shoulder at him, a small quirk to her mouth made Lucius' twitch as well.

Lucius' sharp grey eyes met Draco's and Draco nodded at him. Despite the difficulties of late, he understood immediately why his father gave in to his mother, and knew he would be making his way to Potter as soon as he could figure out where the man resided.

However, there were other things that needed doing first. He would see to it that his mother was settled, that she was taken care of, before he approached Potter. While he knew his father would do anything for her, Narcissa had shown him something by expanding the banner, by exposing a weakness, he supposed. Her actions had given him something through the years and it wasn't until recently that he'd figured out just exactly what it was, and now it was his turn to fulfil that debt.

~*~

 

 

"My apologies for keeping you waiting, Mr Potter." Dr Ferraraccio entered the room, spoke briskly, and immediately walked over to the little sink, running his hands under the water. "How are you feeling today?"

Harry squirmed on the examining table as he watched the neurologist warm his hands under the faucet. While he appreciated the gesture, he'd much rather hear the results of the testing he'd endured. His first visit to the office had him doing odd things like touching his fingertips to his nose and walking along lines taped to the floor. The doctor had prodded his fingers and toes with sharp and blunt objects to test his reactions and reflexes.

Then, he'd made Harry talk. They'd spoken of his headaches and dreams, and while Harry had been mostly truthful about his experiences, he had left some things out. The truly magic bits, anyway, since he'd tried to find a Muggle way to explain his history. He knew the omissions had confused the doctor, but the man had been keen on helping him and had listened to Harry.

He'd ordered tests, an MRI, and had helped out with the minor problems Harry had been facing, too. Nothing, though, had changed, or given any indication on why he was tasting magic. Not that he could come right out and say that to the doctor, but he had hopes that with the latest test the doctor had ordered something could be found. Today, Harry was to receive the results.

"I'm feeling well, actually, thanks."

Dr Ferraraccio eyed Harry for a moment, and if Harry didn't know better he would have thought the man was using Legilimency. "Any more headaches? Nightmares?"

"I had a minor bit of pain last week, but as we talked about, the paracetamol seemed to help."

"Then not anything serious? No migraines, stress or tension headaches? Odd dreams0 disrupting sleep?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I usually pull about six or seven hours of sleep, when I don't stay up too late watching the telly." He grinned at the doctor. "I have to admit my mate's girlfriend has me addicted to her soaps."

Ferraraccio snorted. "EastEnders?"

Harry nodded.

"Say no more, I understand. My wife and her mum watch."

Harry chuckled. "So, about that test."

Ferraraccio stood and flicked on a lighted box then shoved what looked like a film negative on the front. Harry moved to look at the pictures. Nine boxes with images of his brain showed different angles of his brain, and he scanned the pictures looking for some indication.

"Test results all appear to be within the normal ranges. However, here…" Ferraraccio pointed to one image then exchanged the film for another one. It was a large blown up version of the smaller image, a cut-away section of his brain, with a small square imposed over the image on one section.

The squared off section had several spots in it that were lighter in colour than the rest of the image, and though they were small, Harry knew immediately that whatever it was must be the problem.

"This section here shows damage of some sort. Usually we'd attribute this to a severe rash of migraines, possibly even strokes or seizures, but you've never mentioned that happened before, nor is it in any of your records we were able to gather through the NHS database. But, whatever the cause, the damage, I think, appears to be from lack of oxygen to the area."

Harry tore his eyes away from the image to find Ferraraccio staring at him, most specifically at the faded image of his scar. Self conscious, he reached up to rub it.

"I know you mentioned that you received your head injury in the accident that killed your parents, and that you have no recollection of it either, but it could be from this. Trauma to the brain, to the neurological system in general, is still very difficult to diagnose accurately because no matter how much we practice at the art, there is still so much we don't know."

Harry nodded and Ferraraccio continued. "As it doesn't seem to be affecting your daily motor functions, and as you state that the headaches aren't increasing in severity or side effects, the only course I can recommend is the one we've been using. Most migraine prescriptions in use today are for the acute treatment; we have nothing at the moment that prevents them from starting."

Harry listened as Ferraraccio continued to speak and offer treatment options even though his mind was elsewhere. He stared at the image wondering if the discolouration was due to the curses he'd endured or if it had happened while he was 'dead'.

He took the prescription Ferraraccio gave him and made his next appointment, still lost in thought about what he'd seen. He put in a request for a copy of his medical records to be sent to the post box before leaving the office and walking along the path. When he was certain that it wouldn't be noticed, Harry ducked into an alley and Apparated to Hermione's parent's home.

~*~

 

 

With the manor completely refurbished and spelled, Draco could no longer put off his promise to his mother. He knew she was waiting to see if he'd made any progress on the banner. He'd not even considered it until just after the renovations had begun and he'd been summoned to his Father's office and interrogated about his classmates.

He made it perfectly clear to Lucius that while he did indeed intend to return to polite society, he would do it on his own time, and only after the manor was finished. He did not need a social secretary. It was then that Lucius brought up marriage. Draco balked immediately. However, Lucius only informed him that he would not tolerate any association with Pansy Parkinson.

Relieved, Draco agreed. As badly as he hated to admit it, Pansy's actions would be seen as detrimental. Oh, he'd known she was scared and had only acted out of fear, but then she hadn't returned at all. He'd seen nothing of her since the battle when he'd seen several of the banished Slytherins return to fight on both sides of the confrontation. He had owls from a great many people in Slytherin since then. Both good and bad, and it was the bad Draco regretted the most.

Gregory Goyle, one of the people Draco had known the longest had completely withdrawn his support and cut all ties with the Malfoy family. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle had grown up with Draco. The boys had all been tutored together at the various family homes until it was time to go off to secondary school. While mischief had been high on their list of accomplishments at Hogwarts, when they had been young it had been even more so.

The three boys had been inseparable for many years, so Vincent's death and Greg's subsequent defection had hurt. More than the humiliation he'd suffered at the hands of the Dark Lord or even Potter, Greg's letter gutted Draco. He'd gone out of his way to save Goyle in the Room of Lost things when Crabbe had been foolish enough to cast the FiendFyre spell. That Weasley and Granger had been the actual ones to pull Greg out hadn't escaped him, but the loss of his last, first friend nearly did Draco in.

For several days he refused to leave his suite of rooms, summoning up just tea and toast from the kitchens until Narcissa had blasted her way into his room. She scolded him for sulking and forced him into the bath then dragged him abroad again for more shopping.

They encountered Terrence Higgs in Greece. Draco vaguely recalled the man as he'd been a quiet sort, but Narcissa had known his mother and the two women gossiped for the better part of several hours while Draco and Terrence sat in an uncomfortable silence.

It wasn't until the were departing that Higgs expressed any sort of sentiment to Draco. "I heard about Hogwarts and Crabbe. My condolences, Malfoy."

Stunned, Draco had just stared at him while Higgs had given him an odd sort of bow. Narcissa had had to nudge him into giving a response. Higgs had smirked and told him he'd owl, and that once more time had passed, others would as well. He would pass the word.

Draco found out that Higgs hadn't lied.

Theodore Nott had come to the manor for a brief visit next. Draco had found the man sitting in the parlour with his mother and listened to the conversation from the doorway.

Nott's mother, deceased since he was eleven, had been a friend of Narcissa's, and both Draco and Theo had spent time together as children. Not nearly as much time as Crabbe and Goyle, but Theo had been around. Draco recalled dashing through the rose gardens until they'd been caught and reprimanded for being unruly. Setting frogs loose in the various fountains on the lawns and watching the house elf try in vain to capture them all before Narcissa found out. And then the one time Dobby hadn't been quick enough, Narcissa's shrieks still echoed in his memories as did the boyish giggles.

A smirk curled his lip as he remembered, then a gasp drew his attention and he focussed on Nott and his mother. Nott held his face in his hands and Narcissa sat on the floor at Theo's feet, her hands resting on his knees. And Draco remembered Nott's father had been one of the Death Eaters captured at Hogwarts, and that Theo's mother was gone, too.

With his mother dead and his father most likely sentenced to Azkaban for the rest of his life, Theo had no one left; the last pureblooded son of the family on his own. Draco knew something had to be done. He straightened and entered the room. "Perhaps an owl to Daphne Greengrass," he murmured and summoned a tea tray. "Father should know how to contact them. I'll sit with him."

Narcissa smiled at him and stood gracefully. She patted Nott's shoulder and left them alone, stopping only to press a hand to Draco's cheek before leaving the room.

Theo had spent several weeks at the manor after that day in the parlour. Daphne Greengrass had as well. Once again, Draco found himself walking the manor grounds with Theo. Only this time instead of frog spawn and tricks being played, future plans were discussed. Neither man needed to work, but both felt change was needed. Draco discovered a different sort of friendship with Theo had developed and it warmed the empty spot Goyle had left. He hadn't realized until then just how much he'd needed a companion.

When Daphne accompanied them, Draco noticed the difference she brought to their relationship. He'd not paid much attention to her while they'd been at Hogwarts. She was a witch, made time with Pansy, and giggled. He'd had no time for her then. Now, though, he'd noticed she was pretty in a subtle way, and intelligent and warm in a way that reminded him greatly of his mother, especially as he watched her preen for both he and Theo. Only he wasn't having anything to do with her as he saw Theo fall under her spell.

Slowly more of Draco friends returned. Blaise Zabini put in an appearance. He seemed to be following in his mother's footsteps, turning heads by appearing in Wizarding papers with a different witch each night. He had an entourage with him of beautiful witches and wizards, a few of which turned Draco's head, as he spent a few days at the manor. But the most surprising person, Draco had to admit, was Millicent Bulstrode.

Bulstrode had marched up to the manor and told him no uncertain terms that she was half-blood and that Daphne had sent her to contribute to the banner for Narcissa. Draco had said nothing and led her to the drawing room immediately.

After she left, Draco found Lucius watching him from the shadows of the room. "Formidable woman."

"Do _not_ get any ideas."

Lucius just laughed.

Draco then understood why his Father tried to manipulate lives. The power was incredible and ultimately addicting, but he also saw how it could backfire. He knew that by stepping back from Daphne, how the relationship changed both Theo and Daphne. Though Daphne had been part of the clique of girls that surrounded Pansy, she had been a more subtle sort of pureblood. Her family had remained neutral through the conflict, and if she thought anything derogatory of Theo's past, she kept it well hidden.

Theo had thrived under Daphne's attention, and the soft-spoken, broken man that had arrived at the manor was on his way to rebuilding his life, to happiness and his future. Draco was thrilled for them both.

"You did well with that match, Draco, darling," Narcissa complimented him at dinner that evening after Theo had informed him he was going to approach Daphne's father to ask for her hand.

Draco sipped from his wine goblet and settled it back on the table before answering her. "I did nothing of the sort. I knew they were acquaintances during our time at Hogwarts and thought she might be able to provide some comfort during this time."

Lucius chuckled. "It was a worthy connection. It is what we do, Draco. Don't besmirch the art."

Draco frowned. "I don't want to think I manipulated my friends into a relationship. I'd rather think that they came together and found something worth pursuing together because it is mutually advantageous for both of them."

Narcissa smiled. "It is not unseemly to believe in love, Draco."

Draco scowled at her. "I must emphatically state that I neither believe in that silly sentiment nor do I wish for a 'mutually beneficial arrangement' to be made on my behalf, Father." He turned and directed the glare at Lucius.

Lucius' mouth twitched and his eyes, normally hard, sparked with amusement. "Of course not, my son."

Draco dropped his serviette on to the table and stood. "You'll excuse me. I dislike being mocked at my own table."

Lucius' face hardened in an instant. "This is still _my_ table, boy, regardless of its or your age. You will sit and finish dinner with us."

Narcissa took a deep breath. "Leave it, Lucius." She eyed Draco for a moment, then asked. "The banner, Draco? Have you given it any more consideration?"

Draco sighed but nodded. "If I am allowed?" He held out a hand to her. In all this time that they had been refurbishing the manor and the grounds, Draco had asked her to leave the drawing room to him. With just a slight arch of her brow, she gave him leave, and Draco had called on his newly established ties to make the connections.

Narcissa stood and took his elbow. Lucius narrowed his eyes at her but inclined his head and followed them as Draco led the way to the drawing room. He turned the bronze door handles, then opened the door for her and stepped back, allowing her to precede him into the room.

Narcissa gasped and let go of Draco's arm. Light filled the large room, bouncing off the new chandelier. The crystals sent a riot of colours over the furniture and across the huge marble mantle and fireplace. A low fire burned, warming the room to a cosy temperature, and highlighted the family banner on the wall above it.

Narcissa swallowed, then hurried across the expanse of the room, weaving through the seating area and over to the wall to reach up to the banner. Lucius smirked at Draco in approval, then entered, following Narcissa, and stared at the new names, and Draco smiled. The banner had expanded and more serpent branches had spidered off the main snake. Even more names and dates had been added and connected back to the previous ancestors, the colours brighter in the preserved cloth than they had ever been before.

"Daphne and Theo both contributed spells to it this afternoon. Daphne also promised to bring her mother with her next time, Mother. She was a Macmillian and has ties to Longbottom."

"I see," Narcissa murmured as she touched the banner. "She also had Lestrange ties as more of that line has filled in."

"Zabini and Milicent added their lineage to the banner where they could as well. In exchange, I offered what knowledge I had of our ancestry to form their own charts."

Draco watched her for a long moment and felt his father's gaze on his back. He didn't turn around, though, and kept watch over Narcissa. "She also told me Potter has been seen around London in the company of Hermione Granger and ..." He swallowed. "Andromeda Tonks."

Narcissa did turn then, and Draco could see her blue eyes were moist, though no tears fell. She blinked away the liquid and gazed back at the banner. "I will be most grateful if you could see your way into speaking with Mr Potter, Draco."

Draco knew then he was out of time. No more stalling because of the manor. He had a starting place and names, and hopefully, he would be able to find Potter. "As you wish."

It was still another month before Draco was able to make any sort of progress on contacting Potter. Owls he sent returned, unopened. He wasn't certain if that was because Potter refused the missives, or if his location was hidden from postal owls.

So, when he saw Potter walking down a Muggle street with a child in his arms, Draco nearly fell off the tailor stool. Zabini laughed and reached out to help him regain his balance while the tailor fussed.

"Honestly, Draco, one doesn't leave in the middle of a fitting from Savile Row's finest."

Draco scowled at Blaise. "I thought I saw someone I knew."

Blaise glanced around the room. "Here?"

"No. On the street," Draco answered and turned when the tailor nudged his leg. He stared out the window over his shoulder, searching the paths for a glimpse of the man.

"Who? Surely not one of our crowd? I only found this place through one of Mother's conquests. His suit was impeccable, and I had to have one," Blaise studied his fingernails then eyed Draco as the tailor turned him again. "That colour suits you."

Draco hummed. Spending the day shopping in Muggle London, admittedly at one of the finer establishments, had never been high on Draco's to do list. Seeing as all his information on Potter had led him to the area meant he'd needed someone familiar with the territory, and Blaise was it.

"It was Potter."

Blaise's jaw dropped then he composed himself. "Are you certain?"

"Messy black hair, ugly glasses. I don't recognize the child, though. Nor do I remember any mention of Potter marrying in the _Prophet_."

"No, but there have been mentions made of his withdrawal from society."

Draco eyed Blaise. "Why?"

"No one knows. There was a big to do when he turned down the Auror position, and he isn't on the rolls to return to Hogwarts in the autumn."

Draco thought about what Blaise told him as the tailor directed him off the stool. He changed clothing and studied the scenery outside, hoping to catch another glance of Potter. Instead, he saw something that chilled him to the bone. A woman, one so similar in appearance to his Aunt Bellatrix, exited one of the shops. Bellatrix was dead, though, so this could only be his other aunt.

She turned toward the Henry Herbert shop and stared right in the shop window at Draco. Draco was trapped by her gaze. He held his breath as she watched him and noticed the differences. Her hair was lighter and he could see grey beginning to thread into the brown locks. She turned away, breaking the connection, and Draco could breathe again. But he continued to watch her.

Her entire face changed as she smiled, and Draco leaned against the glass to continue to watch her. Potter had returned and the child – Draco could have sworn he saw the babe's hair filter through the rainbow of colours before settling on a dusty, dark blond. The woman took the child from Potter and they walked away.

That movement galvanized Draco. With a wave of his hand, he left Blaise on the tailor stool and ran out the shop door. Afraid to shout and startle his quarry, he pushed through the crowd trying to catch up without alerting them to his presence.

The chase was for naught because as soon as they turned the corner, Potter saw him. Draco continued on, wary, but determined, until he met the business end of Potter's wand.

Draco froze, panting, and held up his hands. "Wait. I need to speak with you."

Potter narrowed his eyes. "I have nothing to say to you, though."

"Please," Draco breathed. "I just want to talk." He glanced over Potter's shoulder, now almost certain who the woman was. "It's for my mother."

Andromeda's features hardened. "I have nothing to say to my _sister_. Let's go, Harry."

Potter stared at Draco and he offered his plea again. "Please. I wouldn't ask, except it's for my mother."

"Is she ill?" Potter's voice was soft, and Draco knew he had Potter's attention. He looked at Andromeda. Her face was still closed off, her mouth pursed into a thin, white line, and she shook her head.

"No--" Draco began but Andromeda cut across him.

"She's wanted nothing to do with me for too many years, and I can't imagine what I would need from her now."

"I will send you an owl, Malfoy," Potter began.

"Harry! But you--"

Draco nodded as Potter held up a hand, stopping Andromeda's tirade. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

Draco backed up, then turned and walked away from them, his heart pounding and waiting for the spell to hit him, Obliviating or even cursing him, but it never came.

~*~

 

 

Harry watched Malfoy walk away then turned to Andromeda. "I know you said it doesn't exist, but I think-- I feel-- that I owe her a life debt. If I can absolve that now, then I won't have to deal with the Malfoys any more than necessary."

Andromeda frowned and shook her head. "I don't like this."

Harry took her arm, grimaced as he led her toward an arterial, and prepared himself for the Portkey trip. Not that the magic for it was any better than Apparition, but it upset Teddy less to travel that way. "I know. I don't trust Malfoy as far as I could toss him, but I have to do this."

Andromeda sighed. "I know you think you do, Harry, but I don't think so. Especially with how sick you've been lately."

Harry smiled at her. Between her, Mrs Granger, and Hermione, he had more than enough people looking out for him, and it was starting to tap his last nerve. He helped her hold a wriggling Teddy and keep a hand on the empty milk bottle charmed to take them back to the Tonks house. "I'll be fine. I'll find a place crowded with people for us to meet, and make certain Kreacher is there as well. He wouldn't dare try any magic in front of Muggles."

Harry grimaced again as he felt the swelling of magic as the Portkey activated, jerking his navel toward their destination. He let go immediately as they arrived on the lane leading up to the house. He pulled his hand away from Teddy as soon as he was steady on his feet, and withdrew his canteen from a shopping bag, washing down the taste of road dust from the Portkey.

He felt Andromeda's delicate hand on his back and Teddy's smaller one on his arm and smiled at them both before pulling away as fast as he reasonably could. "Thanks," he offered and capped the canteen, hoping to block off any magic from tainting the water as they walked up the lane to the house. He'd learned that the protection spells on the house would affect him once he crossed them and if his water bottle was open at the same time, the magic would transfer to his wash.

"I suppose that will have to do, since I can't stop you," Andromeda conceded as they strolled. She placed Teddy on the ground and watched as he toddled ahead of them. "Has nothing changed then?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but then it's not worsened, either, so I reckon that's a good thing. I just make certain I'm careful on which spells I cast and keep a canteen at hand."

Andromeda nodded, and they walked in silence for several minutes, watching Teddy as he played.

"Will you stay for dinner? I've had a roast in, cooking slow as we've been gone, so it shant take me long to finish up the other veg to round out the meal." She rested a hand on his arm and squeezed. "I appreciate you coming with me today. I know you don't like to go out into Diagon Alley."

Harry shrugged. "It wasn't anything to take Teddy with me to pick up clothing and such for us while you did the magical shopping."

Andromeda arched a brow. "I take it you don't understand what it means to have the opportunity to shop without a tiny helper."

Harry chuckled. "Oh, now, I had plenty of help with Teddy while I was fitted and he allowed the barber to trim his fringe. I even managed to get some Christmas shopping done. You wouldn't believe how many people want to help a young dad with his son."

Andromeda laughed. "I am surprised at you, Harry. Does this mean you are ready to move on after Ginny and are setting up a date with a nice young woman?"

Harry shrugged. He wasn't about to tell her about the salesman who followed him into the dressing room and offered him a hand job, or when he'd stuffed a paper with his number into Harry's jeans pocket while the sales girl cooed at Teddy once he was at the clerk's desk. "We'll see."

Shaking her head, Andromeda scooped up Teddy and crossed the protection spells, then waited for Harry to follow. Taking a deep breath, Harry gripped his canteen and crossed the lines, gritting his teeth against the sensation of the magic on his tongue.

"I'll stay for dinner, but not too late. I still want to work on the house tonight. Once I get everything finished, I want you and Teddy to come see it. You are welcome there again, Andromeda. It was your home once and I'd like you to be comfortable in it again."

Andromeda pressed a hand to his shoulder as Harry took Teddy from her and ignored his flinch. "I appreciate that Harry, but as I've told you before, some things from the past can't be mended. I'm glad you've made Grimmauld Place into a home for you but Ted and I built our home here."

Harry sighed as he moved away from her. "I respect that, I do, but I could use your help with some of the items in the house. Kreacher wants to keep them all. Sirius wanted to bin everything, but I'd like to find a happy medium. Surely, there were some good memories? Something you'd want?"

Andromeda opened the door to the house and Harry set Teddy on his feet, grinning as Teddy ran toward his room, squealing at the top of his lungs. His hair flashed blue and Harry got a brief taste of baby powder, but he grinned as he watched Teddy disappear through the doorway.

"I had to take down the entry wall, you know, to remove her portrait," Harry said, still watching the space where Teddy had gone. "But I've found that I'm a competent builder and I replaced it easily. The main problem I'm having now is with the family tapestry. No matter what I try, I can't repair it where she blasted you and Sirius off. It seems resistant to all magic. I could really use your help."

He turned to find Andromeda watching them and smiled at her. She gave him a sad smile of her own in return. "I'm not a Black any longer Harry, no matter how ingrained the magic once was. I only want to know that the house doesn't take away any more of my kin. That's all I'll want from the Black Family ever again."  


[PART TWO](http://serpentinelion.livejournal.com/409473.html)


	2. Connecting The Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life after the war undergoes some interesting changes for Harry when he sets about trying to find his place in the scheme of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edenise, it was a bit intimidating writing this for someone who actually knew about the condition/situations, but I was very intrigued by your prompt and it sparked an ambitious idea. I only hope I did the profession, research, and the story justice for you and that you enjoy it. I didn't make 50K but I tried. Thanks to my beta for her advice and help, and the mods for the extra time and patience I asked for to finish this up properly.

**Author:** [](http://unbroken-halo.livejournal.com/profile)[**unbroken_halo**](http://unbroken-halo.livejournal.com/)  
 **Beta:** [](http://witch-were.livejournal.com/profile)[**witch_were**](http://witch-were.livejournal.com/)  
 **Glomp For:** [](http://edenise.livejournal.com/profile)[**edenise**](http://edenise.livejournal.com/)  
 **Title:** Connecting The Lines  
 **Pairing(s):** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, Narcissa/Lucius  
 **Summary:** Life after the war undergoes some interesting changes for Harry when he sets about trying to find his place in the scheme of things.  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.  
 **Warning(s):** Wanking, voyeurism, innuendo, UST  
 **Epilogue compliant?** Not really, but I picked out bits and pieces from it as well as from both the interviews and Pottermore to use at random.  
 **Word Count:** 25,346  
 **Author's/Artist's Notes:** Edenise, it was a bit intimidating writing this for someone who actually knew about the condition/situations, but I was very intrigued by your prompt and it sparked an ambitious idea. I only hope I did the profession, research, and the story justice for you and that you enjoy it. I didn't make 50K but I tried. Thanks to my beta for her advice and help, and the mods for the extra time and patience I asked for to finish this up properly.

[PART ONE](http://serpentinelion.livejournal.com/409268.html)

Harry dunked his biscuit in his milk, waiting for the layers to become soggy with the liquid before shoving it in his mouth. He closed his eyes in satisfaction as the biscuit melted on his tongue and he smirked at Hermione's giggles.

"You eat like a boy," she remarked and sipped her tea. She turned her face to the sun and closed her eyes, letting the late summer light heat her face.

"Well, I am, you know. Male, that is. A teenager still, even." Harry held another biscuit down to its death before eating it, sucking the chocolate traces from his fingers as she opened one eye to peer at him.

"You don't say?"

Harry hummed. "Yes. At least I remember to shut my mouth whilst indulging in this snack." He wiped his hands on a serviette and leaned back in his chair. "Are you going to tell me why you are in this part of London on such a pretty day? I had assumed you'd be with Ron or readying to go back to Hogwarts."

"Ron's busy helping George. They don't need me underfoot while the store is full of back-to-schoolers. Besides, Percy and Angelina are there helping out until Percy decides on whether or not he wants to take Kingsley up on his offer to return to the Ministry position."

Harry hummed. He'd known WWW was still doing well, as George kept him updated as a silent partner but that still didn't explain Hermione's presence. "Did Andromeda send you?"

Even though her face was pinked from the sun, her cheeks darkened, and Harry knew he'd hit on the answer. "She's worried about you."

"I think I can handle Malfoy by myself, and besides, Kreacher is right over there." Harry flicked a finger across the table and Hermione turned her head, seeing Kreacher's giant, bulbous eyes in the bushes dividing the cafe from the salon next door. His droopy ears nearly blended in with the greenery but she could see the golden shine of the fake locket through the shrub's branches.

"They've got their own magic, so don't give me any grief about him being seen. He normally does my shopping in Diagon Alley if I'm busy at the house, so he knows better than anyone about being discreet."

Hermione bit her lip. "Harry, I know a lot has happened since then, but Kreacher did betray Sirius to the Malfoys before. What is stopping him from doing so again? He still sometimes calls me mudblood."

Harry nodded. "I know, and we're working on that. You can't expect an instant turn around, but I don't think he'll let Malfoy do anything to harm me. He likes what I'm doing to Grimmauld now, even if it does upset him some. He wants to be useful, and I am giving him that chance. You're still trying to convince him to commit magical…" He waved his hand trying to find the right word, "suicide."

Hermione glared at him. "I am not! Equality is not something that should be treated lightly."

"Neither are their feelings on the matter, Hermione. This is the last time I'm going to say anything on this and I am going to be blunt about it. You are being just like Voldemort. He expected Regulus to sacrifice Kreacher for the cause because he was just a house elf. You want them to sacrifice their way of life just because _your_ sensibilities are offended."

Hermione gasped, but Harry ploughed on, reaching across the table to hover his hand over her hand, even as she tried to snatch it away. "I don't treat him badly, and I am certain that the rest of the house elves that are owned aren't mistreated either. One case doesn't make the norm. You know the ones at Hogwarts are treated fairly as well. Dobby was different. You saw how Winky reacted to being freed. Let it go, love. Help someone else that actually needs and wants your help."

"He's correct, you know."

Harry looked up, knowing that it was Malfoy who had spoken. Hermione stiffened but she stayed right where she was and she squeezed his hand. Harry tried not to jerk away from her. "Thank you, I think." He tugged Hermione chair closer to him and gestured to Malfoy. "Have a seat."

Malfoy nodded and tugged out the bistro chair, sitting sideways and crossing his long legs. He eyed the waiter as he placed a glass of water on the table and offered Malfoy a menu, then rattled off the lunch specials.

Harry eyed Malfoy as he studied the menu. He hadn't changed much, though it was odd to see him in Muggle style clothing. His face was long and thin, though the pointiness had filled out some. He was still pale and his hair had darkened some, not quite the gossamer blond of his father's, though it was getting to be just as long. The feather tips just lay on his shoulders, curling across the fine fabric of his suit jacket, the honey colour in contrast with the deep heather grey.

When Malfoy looked up and spoke to the waiter, Harry saw that the colour complemented his features, blending in an appeasing match of eyes and skin tone but not forcing any one thing to the forefront except for the fact that Malfoy was inherently, and expensively male.

Hermione squeezed his fingers and Harry blinked, reaching for his glass of water and taking a long sip to steady himself. He placed it back on the glass top table with a clink.

"Other than interrupting a private conversation, why are you here? What do you want from me?"

Malfoy's mouth twitched and Harry felt Hermione's arm jolt. Her wand slid between their fingers and he pressed his palm flat against hers trapping the vine wood length against his fingers. A horribly hot sensation began to build on his tongue; spice like from a pepper burned his mouth. He coughed as his eyes began to water and he realized it was her rage, channelled through her wand.

Her turned his head, hissing at her. "Calm down!"

She jumped and stared at him, then looked down. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Harry swallowed hard as the sensation receded and looked at Malfoy. His eyes were wide as he watched them then narrowed. "Pardon me for not answering, but is there something going on that I need to move out of the way of? Will there be a Weasley barrelling in from somewhere?"

Harry scowled and shook his head, once again crushing Hermione's hand with his own to stop her from lashing out at him. "I suggest you keep any snide comments to yourself from now on, Malfoy. I just saved your arse from a repeat of Third year. Hermione's still a bit on edge from the last time we saw you."

Malfoy had the grace to look away then. He reached for his glass and drank it down before speaking. "My apologies. I know they mean little considering what occurred but I mean them sincerely. We did what we were taught to do then, but we are adults now and I hope we can act accordingly."

Harry gaped at Malfoy but Hermione glared at him. "I don't know what you want Malfoy, but I won't let you take advantage of Harry's good nature after torturing both of us for seven years."

Malfoy nodded. "Another lovely female defender, Potter. I wouldn't have thought you needed one after defeating the Dark Lord."

This time, Harry couldn't help himself. His own wand was in his hand and pointed at Malfoy. He felt Hermione's magic across his skin, tasted the Disillusionment Charm, and he gagged on it. Hermione's wand was out and directed at Malfoy, too, before Harry regained control over his senses and then he began to speak. "The only reason I haven't hexed you is because Mrs Malfoy needs something according to you. That is the only reason I am willing to hear you out. State your business, now, and quickly before I lose any more patience and refuse her."

Malfoy stiffened, his hands held up in surrender, as the waiter returned and placed a plate of fresh fruit and cheese on the table. A tea pot and bags of tea followed along with cups. He didn't notice the wands pointed across the table or the grimace on Harry's face as he refilled the water glasses.

"Enjoy your lunch," he drawled and walked away.

"You didn't learn anything, did you, Malfoy?" Hermione snarled. "You surprised me with your words at first but that's all they were, just words." She lowered her wand slightly and sighed. "Let's go, Harry. You owe this bastard nothing."

She stood, digging in her purse, and tossing down several paper notes on the table. Harry stayed seated though, wand still pointed at Malfoy, and Malfoy continued to eye Harry.

"What's ailing you, Potter?"

Hermione froze and glanced at Malfoy then cut her eyes to Harry.

"Don't try to read my mind, you bloody bastard."

"I wouldn't be so rude."

"Ha!" Harry snorted and shook his head. "As if you'd know the difference. Answer the question I asked and I'll consider helping Mrs Malfoy."

"Quid pro quo, Potter."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You want me to answer your questions, and help your mother? I don't think so."

"I might be able to help you."

"There isn't anything wrong with me, Malfoy, so I doubt it." Harry pushed to his feet. "Since you aren't inclined to tell me what you want, you can finish your lunch alone. Don't contact me again." He gestured at Hermione. "Let's go."

Hermione scrambled to keep up with Harry. "What are you doing?"

Harry ran his tongue over his teeth, scraping it along the tops and bottom trying to remove the slimy residue left over from the Disillusionment Charm. "He noticed something when you cast the charm. I didn't expect you to shoot first then ask questions."

Hermione's face reddened. "I didn't realize how much he still frightened me. I mean… well, obviously he doesn't frighten me but he does make me rather angry and especially since he horned in on our conversation--"

"Hermione, get to the point."

"Oh, right. Well, do you think he might actually be able to help you?"

Harry jerked to a stop. "Have you gone mad?"

Hermione sighed. "Just think about it for a moment, Harry. He's a pureblood and might know of some weird magical disease that's causing your symptoms. You won't go to St. Mungo's and you can't tell the Muggle doctor the truth, so who else can you trust."

"Not Malfoy, that's for certain. Hello, do you remember who exactly was going to the _Prophet_ during Fourth year?"

"Yes, I realize that, but you won't see Madame Pomfrey, either and she's always been very discreet."

Harry hung his head. "Not helping."

"You can always extract an Unbreakable Vow from him, Harry," Hermione urged. "He's a pureblood. He will take that seriously because he's knowledgeable about the magical consequences."

"I don't think this has anything to do with whether or not he's knowledgeable about pureblood magic. Andromeda hasn't been able to think of anything, and I let you loose in the Black Family Library, Hermione. We still have nothing. If you couldn't find a book about this, then I doubt Malfoy could."

Harry looked up at her and Hermione smiled at him. She cupped his face. "I can't believe I am going to say this but here goes. Books might not be our answer, Harry. But a pureblood, willing to look into something where magic is key might be. As much as I adore Andromeda, she's dead set against coming back to Grimmauld Place. I know the house isn't giving me complete access to everything and so do you, otherwise you'd have fixed the tapestry. Malfoy might have a spell that we don't that can help."

Harry licked his lips and leaned forward, resting his head against hers. "You're right. I can't believe you said that."

  
~*~

 

Draco left the food on the table and followed Potter and Granger. He couldn't hear their conversation, but he did take note of the streets down which they turned. He waited to see if they would take the tube, and followed. He nearly lost them at one station, when a group of loud and wildly dressed teenagers exited the train.

He caught sight of Granger's bushy hair though as the rowdy teens disbursed and they rode on for a few more stops. He nearly fell asleep to the rocking motion but the announcer kept jolting him out of his doze at each stop. Then Granger stood and Potter came to his feet.

Draco fell back into step with Granger and Potter as they made their way up to street level once more. He waited outside the corner store and a green grocer, Potter's messy mop glinting in the street lamps as dusk began to fall. Draco followed them into a residential area then stared at the empty space on the street where they had vanished. He hadn't heard the pop of Apparition but those well versed in the art were known to do so quietly. He turned around, looking for a hint of where they might have gone only to feel a hard shove at his knees and go tumbling face first into the hedge in front of one of the townhouses.

"Master Draco Malfoy is to leave Master Harry alone, he is," a scratchy voice grumbled.

Draco turned over on time to hear a snap and see a flash of light as he extracted himself from the prickly hedge. Rubbing his knees and brushing the dirt from his suit, Draco glanced around marking the name of the street and the addresses of the houses around him. He narrowed his eyes and conjured a bit of parchment and a quill to take a note of the oddly numbered Muggle street.

With a loud crack, he Apparated home to the manor. A wave of his hand, and the manor's gate misted away. Draco walked through, striding up the lane, ignoring his father's peacocks. The front door opened for him and he stopped long enough to shed his jacket. The coat rack took it from his hand then began to walk up the stairs to his room while Draco made his way to the drawing room.

Narcissa was sitting on a chaise, sipping tea, and reading. The book stand flipped the page for her and she leaned closer, reading the words on the page intently.

"Mother," Draco spoke, his voice soft so he didn't startle her.

Narcissa looked up and smiled at him. She straightened on the chaise and poured him a cup. "Join me, Draco."

Settling across from her on a footstool, Draco stirred honey in his tea and blew the steam away from the rim of the cup. "I need you to think back if you don't mind."

Narcissa hummed and nodded.

"London, residential area," Draco prodded and watched her. "The street is entirely Muggle. The addresses misnumbered."

Narcissa frowned and set her teacup down on the table. "I take it you found Mr Potter."

Draco grimaced. "My lunch with him did not go well."

Narcissa arched a brow.

"It was not my fault."

Her other sculpted, blonde arch joined the first and he snorted.

"It was not entirely my fault, then, shall we say. Granger has become wand happy. They both drew on me after but a few minute… insults."

"Draco."

"I tried to be civil. It wasn't my fault the girl acted like a heathen. Though truth be told, she always was a bit quick to strike first."

"Be that as it may, I did warn you to be polite."

Draco sighed. "Yes, well, I noticed something else. Potter appears to be suffering from some sort of malady."

Narcissa frowned. "I have not seen anything in the _Prophet_ as such."

"There might not have been, but something happened today while I was with Potter and Granger. He was fine until she became angry and drew her wand, when that happened he looked as if he was going to sick up."

He nodded at Narcissa when her eyes grew wide and continued. "They travelled to that street I asked about using Muggle only means as well."

Narcissa closed her eyes and hummed. "I vaguely recall a large home in London, when I was a child. It wasn't an uncommon thing for several families to reside in a family residence together. Walburga and Cygnus, my father, were siblings, so the London house was shared between the two of them. The one with the first male heir would take over completely. Your cousin, Sirius, was born, and we left shortly thereafter."

She sighed and opened her eyes. "It wasn't until just before the Dark Lord was defeated the first time that the house became inaccessible to me. I was already married to your father and pregnant with you by then. Father, Uncle Orion, and your other cousin, Regulus, all died, and Walburga was half mad with grief. She closed herself up in the house with only her elf as company. She died when you were a few years old. Bellatrix and Sirius both were in Azkaban by then, and I gave no other thought to the family home since I was a Malfoy. "

Draco chewed on his lip and Narcissa narrowed her eyes at him. He straightened in his seat. "And Andromeda? She never crossed your mind?"

Narcissa swallowed. "Not at the time, no. She had disgraced the family by marrying below her station."

"And now? Would she help you if I cannot figure out a way to talk Potter into cooperating?"

"Andromeda was always a headstrong and intelligent woman. I don't foresee her being swayed easily one way or another."

"But you think there might be a possibility?"

Narcissa looked up at the banner and shook her head. "No, Draco. I don't think Andromeda will be receptive to me at all, nor do I blame her."

She turned, eyeing him for a long moment, and Draco fought the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. "Try again, my darling, and this time leave your sarcasm at the door. I am counting on you, Draco. Do not disappoint me."

  
~*~

 

"Potter."

Harry froze and hung his head. "You are a persistent bugger, aren't you?"

Malfoy stepped out from behind the barrier next to Platform 9 ¾ and smirked at him. "You refused my letters. I've been civil and I've tried to apologize."

Harry snorted and shook his head at Malfoy. For the past month, Malfoy had been emailing him, Hermione, Ron, and anyone else that he could think of to try and contact Harry. Most of his friends ignore the letters. Andromeda had sent him a Howler, informing him she was sending Malfoy a Howler, and Harry never wanted to receive one of those again. She immediately Floo'd him and begged his forgiveness once she realized what she had done.

Andromeda's anger mixed with the magic of the Howler had tasted like ink and burnt parchment. Added in with the ash and metallic tang of the Floo powder and it had been one of the worst things that he had experienced so far since he'd become so sensitive to magic. It had made him quite sick and he'd nearly ended up in Accident and Emergency from all the purging his stomach had done.

"I believe what you are doing is classified as stalking in the Muggle world. Go away and leave me alone." Harry took one last look at the empty bay where the Hogwarts Express had been. The train was just a small speck on the horizon, Hermione's perfume still lingered around him and the taste of the coal that fuelled the steam engine heavy on his tongue. He braced himself for the trip through the barrier, gripping his canteen tightly as he took a step forward.

"Oh, no, you don't, Potter. I've finally found you and we're going to have a little chat."

"Bugger off, Malfoy. I don't have to do a damned thing with you." Harry pushed through the bricks.

The heavy oily taste that coated his tongue mingled with the pasty mortar and salt of the iodine used to colour the bricks. He felt Malfoy's fingers wrap about his arm and the taste dissipated greatly as they appeared on the other side.

Harry jerked his arm away from Malfoy, the sensation of the magical flavour returned, and Malfoy paled then ran over to the bin and vomited. Harry ran a hand over his face and groaned as he listened to Malfoy retch then looked around. He drew his wand and prepared himself, casting the Disillusionment Charm on them both.

He gagged then spun the top on his canteen and guzzled down several swallows of water. When he lowered the bottle, he found Malfoy staring at him, his grey eyes wide and face pale.

"What in Merlin's name did you do to me?"

Harry pursed his lips. "I could ask you the same thing."

Malfoy blinked. "I have never before in my life ever experienced anything like that."

Harry chuckled. "I can honestly say the same thing." And he wasn't lying. Never had any of his friends experienced the same taste sensations with him. He'd made Ron and Hermione both cast spells around him, on him, holding hands with him and even holding on to the same wand with him, but nothing like what had occurred with Malfoy had ever happened.

Malfoy shook his head. "No. I don't believe you. There was something off about you that day we met for lunch, and I think whatever it was made that awful taste thing happen just now."

Harry scowled. One chance encounter and Malfoy had figured out there was a problem. He was going to owe Hermione an extra new book when he saw her at the Christmas holidays. "Maybe you are taking ill?"

Malfoy stared at him. "Have you gone daft?"

"Don't think so, though I've been accused of it before." Harry smirked at him and began to walk away.

Malfoy reached out for him then thought better and Harry nodded as he passed by Malfoy. "Go on then. Leave me alone. I've got better things to do than have you following me about."

"Go home then. I'll still come after you. I know you live in London."

Harry stopped, slowly turning around to face Malfoy. "You are a bloody menace, you know that."

"I need your help, Potter, then I promise to leave you alone. That's all I want. Keep your bloody secrets about the weird tastes but I will follow you to that odd Muggle street with the misnumbered addresses and wait for you. I may not be able to see the house but I'll know you are there and you'll know I am there, too."

And Harry would. The Muggles wouldn't put up with Malfoy standing about shouting at him, but it wouldn't take much for him to cast a Charm for him to disappear from their sights. Then Harry would never know where Malfoy was. He'd never know when it would be safe to leave his home despite it being under the Fidelius Charm. It would almost be like when the Death Eaters had been after them.

"Fine. What do you want?"

Malfoy blinked at him and Harry leaned forward. "What. Do. You. Want? What part of that did you not understand?"

"I'm just surprised you gave in so easily."

"Argh! Malfoy, please. What in Merlin's name do you fecking want?! I want to go home and rest. Eat and finish working on--" Harry stopped. "What does Mrs Malfoy want?"

Malfoy stared at him a bit longer then said. "Mother would like you to come to the manor and release the Black Family line to finish our family banner."

Harry gaped at Malfoy. "Are _you_ daft? I'm never stepping foot in that bloody crypt ever again. I nearly died in there."

Malfoy glared at him. "That's my home you are maligning, Potter. I'd watch your tongue if I were you."

"Good luck with that then because I'm not doing it. I don't even know how to do it even if I wanted to, so you can tell her I'm sorry but I respectfully decline her invitation."

Malfoy opened his mouth but Harry shook his head. "Go away." He turned, walking a few steps away, preparing himself to Apparate.

Malfoy's fingers closed around his arm and Harry Side-Along Malfoy inside Grimmauld Place with him.

"Merlin! What have you done to me?" Malfoy wailed, coughing and sticking his tongue out as he danced in place. Harry jerked his arm away from him, the lemon ice taste of the Apparition fouled by the Fidelus Charm's bitterness assailing his tongue.

Harry drained the canteen, trying to clear away the sensation and shook his head. "You idiot! What possessed you to grab on to someone mid-Apparation?"

Malfoy straightened and glared at Harry. "Who bloody Apparates in the middle of King's Cross?" Looking around, Malfoy arched a brow. "Where are we?"

"My home. You can Floo out through the kitchen, though. I can't believe you followed me here." Harry groaned and started down the hallway since there was no way he was going to actually give Malfoy the physical address of the house.

Malfoy's footfalls were heavy on the hardwood floors. "Is this the Black Family home?"

He sounded a bit awed to Harry, and Harry was glad he'd renovated most of the lower floors rooms. Grudgingly, Harry answered. "Yes, but it's my home now, so let's just get you back to yours and we can go about our merry ways."

Harry pushed into the kitchen and nodded at Kreacher as the elf readied a tea tray. "Just tea, Kreacher, and then we're working on the third floor today."

"Yes, Master Harry. Is yous certain just tea? No biscuits or sandwiches--" Kreacher stopped as he turned and saw both Harry and Malfoy. He narrowed his eyes. "What is yous doing here? Yous been warned Master Draco Malfoy."

"That was you, elf?" Malfoy sneered.

Kreacher raised his hand, his fingers rubbing together and Harry's eyes widen. "No! Kreacher, he's leaving, so don't do anything."

"I am not leaving. Not until I get what I want, Potter."

"Kreacher gets the pan to make Master Draco Malfoy leave, then."

"No! No pans, either, Kreacher." Harry rubbed his face. "Go, Malfoy, please. Floo powder is in the box on the mantle."

"I've already told you I'm not leaving until I get what I want. And I want to know about that weird taste thing you've got going on, too." Malfoy eyed Kreacher, taking a step back when the elf began to dig through the cabinets and mumbling about dung and pans, and extra whacks for good measures. "Should I be worried about the elf?"

Harry moaned and pulled at his cheeks. "Yes, yes you really should be. So, I advise you to leave. Again."

Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Oh, why not?!" It was a whinge, even Harry could admit that.

"The manor isn't connected."

"Malfoy Manor isn't connected to the Floo network?"

"No, it is, but wherever this place is, it is not connected to the manor's access spells."

Harry stared at Malfoy. "This house is under Fidelius and I Floo'd here from the Ministry."

"Well, you were trying to Floo here and you are the Secret Keeper, yes?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, that's perfectly fine. The magic knows you are allowed to be on the premises. You are allowed to bring anyone you wish with you. However, I cannot access the manor's protection spells from the outside nor can I bypass them while my father is on the grounds since he is, technically, still the living heir."

"That makes no sense. What good is having the bloody spell cast to hide the house if anyone can find the damned thing by just tagging along?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Just because you brought them into the house doesn't mean they could find it again unless you actually tell them the physical address. Once they exit, the edifice will vanish from their sight, but the memory will remain."

That reassured Harry slightly even if he couldn't get rid of Malfoy yet. "How can I do that for this house?"

Malfoy smirked. "As I said, Potter, quid pro quo."

Harry pursed his lips. "If I help you with this thing Mrs Malfoy wants, then you help me guard my house from intrusive Floo-ins, and that's it."

"I want to know about the tongue tasting, too."

"That's not a bargaining option."

"I say it is."

"Mention it again and the deal is null and void."

Malfoy pulled out a stool and sat down at the table, preparing himself a cup of tea and ignoring Potter. The steam rose up from the cup as Malfoy lifted it and curled around his head like an ethereal halo. Malfoy closed his eyes as he sipped and a smile curved his lips. "Merlin, it's been ages since I've had a properly prepared, elf-made cup of tea. Kreacher, this is excellent."

The elf backed out of the cabinet and eyed Malfoy suspiciously, and Harry huffed out a breath, rolling his eyes.

Malfoy perused the items on the table then grabbed a tin of biscuits. He prized it open, his nose wrinkling at the selection until he finally found one he liked and plucked it up. Nibbling on the end of the lady finger, Malfoy turned and leaned against the table. "So, just how long have you had this problem with your tongue? I mean," he waved the biscuit around as if trying to decide on his words. "Does it always occur when you are near magic and me, or are there others that trigger its occurrence?"

Malfoy's grey eyes sparked with mirth, and Harry was certain, still a bit of the maliciousness that had always been there when they were children. Most likely, if it hadn't been him in the situation, there would be something about it that he could find humorous, too. As it was, it rather irritated him that with just having experienced two episodes of whatever it was that had affected Harry, Malfoy had figured out some of the bare bones of the problem.

Instead of answering though, Harry narrowed his eyes, and sat down next to Malfoy. Clamping his fingers over Malfoy's wrist, he prepared himself, and waved his wand over the tea pot. " _Evanesco_!"

The faint taste of the tea and the grounds rolled over his tongue before being washed away by the sensation of the Vanishing Spell; stale sour tea, dry and dusty ceramic then a hint of paint followed by a lick of fire. Harry had learned that the magic of that particular spell would give him a hint of what he'd vanished before the soured remains of the object. It was always different because so many things were Vanished and he knew quite knew how he would react to the magic.

While this instance had been mild, and Harry assumed it was because of Malfoy, Malfoy made a face. Harry watched him, stick out his tongue as if he'd imbibed the nasty tea as well. His curiosity peaked, Harry decided to cast another spell. He let go of Malfoy and Summoned the pitcher of pumpkin juice Kreacher kept in the chill cabinet.

The silent _Accio_ called forth the pitcher and the arid dryness claimed his mouth. He quickly Summoned two glasses for them because Malfoy was coughing now and poured them both a generous measure.

Malfoy scrambled to drink and Harry sipped his juice, waiting, before answering Malfoy's questions finally, softly.

"It seems you are the first and only one to experience the same sensations, to taste magic with me. It happened after Voldemort fell. No one else, not even the two people with whom I am closest, have ever undergone what you have, and I'll thank you if you didn't share that with the _Prophet."_

Malfoy stared at him, then cleared his throat. "Why aren't you at St. Mungo's?"

Harry drank more of his juice. "You think I want the press and public to know there's something more wrong with their saviour," he spat.

"I'd think you'd want to know what's wrong with your magic! The Dark Lord may have cursed you."

"He did. Several times, in fact."

"Potter! That's not what I meant and you know it. You're being facetious. The medi-witches and wizards, or even a Healer can fix these things. Surely even you aren't stupid enough to ignore that bit of common sense."

Harry shook his head. "Think about it, Malfoy. Think about how you are reacting. What would a Healer from St. Mungo's do to me if they thought I had been cursed by Voldemort?"

Harry turned and looked at Malfoy, waiting, wondering if he was going to click to the facts as quickly as he had before. And Harry wasn't disappointed.

"They would lock you away. Put you on the Spell Damaged ward, or possibly give you to the Unspeakables." Malfoy's voice was soft, as if whispering the name of the mysterious wizards could summon them as Voldemort's charm once had.

Harry nodded once and turned his wand on Malfoy. Forced into position, he needed to act and he braced himself. "Now you know and I can't have that, so I'll suffer one more spell before you go. I've never tasted an Obliviate before."

Malfoy gasped and lurched to his feet. "Potter, no! I… I can help you."

Harry stood, tightening his hand around his wand and glaring at Malfoy. He tried to remain calm, but he was angry. Angry at himself for giving in to Malfoy's demands and really angry at Malfoy for pushing. "No, I don't think you can. See you share whatever this thing is and if there's two of us, they'll lock us away together and I can't have that either. So, you see, I'm really protecting both of us. Again." He cocked his head to one side and licked his lips. "Why do you think that is, Malfoy? Why do you think I keep pulling your arse from the fire?"

"I- I don't know. Oh, Merlin, please," Malfoy backed, hands raised as if to shield himself from Harry's wand. "Potter, no. Please, don't do this."

Slowly, Harry put one leg then the other over the bench at the kitchen table and advanced on Malfoy. Anger from a witch was something he knew about and recognized the flavour on his tongue. Malfoy's fear floated on the air, seasoning the atmosphere with his fear of Harry's magic and fuelling the sensations in Harry. "Kreacher, I need your help. Make certain he goes nowhere."

"Kreacher helps Master Harry," Kreacher croaked and appeared behind Draco, nearly upsetting him.

House elf magic blended anger and fear magics on Harry's tongue, shocking and compounding on his brain.

Malfoy stumbled. "Potter. Oh, Gods, Potter. Please. I have an entire library at your disposal. We can find the counter curse. Please!" He begged as Kreacher tripped him this time.

Kreacher popped about the room and used even more house elf magic to keep Malfoy off balance, drowning Harry on the heady taste.

One last burst of magic and Harry was flooded in sensation, Malfoy went down and he sprawled on the floor.

With the jolt of his landing, Malfoy seemed to overcome his fear. He gasped, clued into the fact that he was a wizard, had a wand, and began digging in his robes

Harry shook his head, trying to come back from the lethargy of magic drunkenness. Never before had he allowed this much to go on at once, and the sensations played havoc with his own mental and physical control. He knew, though, that he couldn't allow Malfoy to add any more magic to the currents swirling about them. The already familiar swell of his and Kreacher's magic was enough, too much and it blasted apart any effects Malfoy's nearness had on him.

"No, I don't think so. Kreacher get his wand. I have no urge to taste _Crucio_ , today."

Kreacher snapped his fingers just as Draco withdrew his wand, the ebony length of wood flying away from him, and he gave a cry of dismay before focussing on Harry again. "Potter."

"Tell me how to complete the banner and I'll figure out a way to get my spell to the manor for Mrs Malfoy." Harry levelled his wand, placing the tip right between Malfoy's eyes. He licked his lips, the sensations of Kreacher's magic working against his concentration and forcing him to focus harder on his own magic, which brought even more tastes to the forefront."This will work, too, Malfoy, or have you forgotten that I am Master of the Death Stick? Tell me what I want to know and I'll let you go with only your memories erased."

Malfoy panted, his panicked eyes darting between Harry's wand and his face. "It's a bloodline spell. There are no real spell words. Your wand; the magic is what's key. It knows your magic, so all you have to do is touch the family chart you are trying to enchant and intone the lineage family motto."

"And that repairs the chart?"

Malfoy frowned, studying Harry for a long moment as if coming to a decision. "N-no. It fills in the blood line branches of the tree." Slowly, Malfoy reached up and wrapped his hand around Harry's wrist, his thumb carefully stroking the underside of his arm as he stared into Harry's eyes. "Why does the chart need to be repaired?"

The overwhelming tastes, none of which Harry could identify, muted with Malfoy's touch and brought him back to his senses. His anger, though, was still there. He hated being cornered, shoved into an untenable position, but with the lessened bombardment of magic flowing across his senses, Harry could think more clearly. He looked down at Malfoy.

Malfoy stared up at him, his fingers still holding Harry's arms, the gentle slow movements caressing his skin and soothing him as if he were a wild creature. Harry closed his eyes, huffing out a breath and focussed on Malfoy's thumb rubbing over his wrist.

The soothing sensation magnified tenfold as Harry concentrated on Malfoy's fingers, his hand wrapped around his wrist. That touch, the warmth of his hands, the firmness, even though his fear was still there belied by the slight tremble, settled him. Because he missed being touched, he admitted to himself. He hadn't let anyone near him in so long. He hadn't wanted to pass on this affliction, at first. But when he'd discovered that he couldn't, he'd also found he could taste the magic of his friends and family, so he'd pushed away their casual closeness because of the reaction it caused.

Teddy, though, was the only exception. He was young and his magic still pure and innocent, was the only one Harry would willingly touch.

When Malfoy came about, with just a few overbearing and unwelcome touches, he had given Harry something that he hadn't realized he was missing. Touch without fear of backlash. He curled his fingers around Malfoy's arm, holding him, inching his fingers under the sleeve of Malfoy's robes to touch his skin. By accepting the soothing motions and reciprocating them, Malfoy's magic, Harry supposed, settled his sensitivity even more. He breathed a sigh of relief when the taste of the spells fled his mouth.

"What did you do?" Malfoy whispered. "I haven't felt anything like that since the Dark Lord lived in the manor."

Harry opened his eyes and looked down at Malfoy, cringing slightly.

"I didn't mean it like that. I- I meant that was fear. I didn't know it tasted like that. And anger. Were you going to use _Crucio_ on me?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. He tugged on Malfoy's arm and helped him to his feet, not letting go of his arm once they were both upright, even though Malfoy tugged on him.

"I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't scared, Potter," Malfoy spat, running a hand through his hair and glaring at Harry.

Harry chuckled. "Right."

It was silent in the kitchen for several moments, then Harry dragged Malfoy back to the table. He poured more pumpkin juice, drinking the glass down before calling Kreacher.

"Give him back his wand."

"Is Master Harry certain?"

"Yes, I'm certain. Can you make some lunch, too, Kreacher?"

"Kreacher will cook for Master Harry and his guest."

Harry held out Malfoy's wand to him. Malfoy snatched it. "Can I have my arm back, too?"

Harry sat and let go of Malfoy, waiting for the sensitivity to return. He sighed when it didn't and looked up at Malfoy. "All it takes is my magic to set the bloodlines?"

Malfoy gaped at Harry, nodding slowly at the change of topics.

Harry drew in a deep breath. "If you will make certain I can access the manor at half-ten tomorrow morning, I'll send an emissary to try the spell."

"Potter, it has to be your magic."

"I know. I have an idea."

Malfoy shook his head. "Gryffindor," he muttered. "Fine, I shall see to it."

"Do not speak of what happened here with your father or the press of any sort, and I will let you keep your memories."

Malfoy pursed his lips but nodded.

"You can leave now. Just go back down the hall and exit the front door."

Malfoy turned on his heel with a huff and stomped toward the kitchen door.

"Malfoy?"

Malfoy stopped and hung his head for a moment. "Yes, Potter."

"Harry Potter lives at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. If my emissary does not provide the proper assistance, you and Mrs Malfoy may Floo here, then."

Malfoy turned, eyes wide as he looked at Harry. "She may wish to see the Black Family tapestry and help me understand what I did wrong."

[PART THREE](http://serpentinelion.livejournal.com/409838.html)


	3. Connecting The Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life after the war undergoes some interesting changes for Harry when he sets about trying to find his place in the scheme of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edenise, it was a bit intimidating writing this for someone who actually knew about the condition/situations, but I was very intrigued by your prompt and it sparked an ambitious idea. I only hope I did the profession, research, and the story justice for you and that you enjoy it. I didn't make 50K but I tried. Thanks to my beta for her advice and help, and the mods for the extra time and patience I asked for to finish this up properly.

**Author:** [](http://unbroken-halo.livejournal.com/profile)[**unbroken_halo**](http://unbroken-halo.livejournal.com/)  
 **Beta:** [](http://witch-were.livejournal.com/profile)[**witch_were**](http://witch-were.livejournal.com/)  
 **Glomp For:** [](http://edenise.livejournal.com/profile)[**edenise**](http://edenise.livejournal.com/)  
 **Title:** Connecting The Lines  
 **Pairing(s):** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, Narcissa/Lucius  
 **Summary:** Life after the war undergoes some interesting changes for Harry when he sets about trying to find his place in the scheme of things.  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.  
 **Warning(s):** Wanking, voyeurism, innuendo, UST  
 **Epilogue compliant?** Not really, but I picked out bits and pieces from it as well as from both the interviews and Pottermore to use at random.  
 **Word Count:** 25,346  
 **Author's/Artist's Notes:** Edenise, it was a bit intimidating writing this for someone who actually knew about the condition/situations, but I was very intrigued by your prompt and it sparked an ambitious idea. I only hope I did the profession, research, and the story justice for you and that you enjoy it. I didn't make 50K but I tried. Thanks to my beta for her advice and help, and the mods for the extra time and patience I asked for to finish this up properly.

[PART ONE](http://serpentinelion.livejournal.com/409268.html)   
[PART TWO](http://serpentinelion.livejournal.com/409473.html)

  
Draco paced the drawing room checking the antique grandfather clock and listening to the tics of the second hand marking the passage of the time as he waited for Potter's emissary. Narcissa sat on the end of her chaise, feet drawn up and covered with a chenille throw.

The deep 'bong' reverberated through the room as the half hour struck. Narcissa straightened and Draco stopped, waiting.

The manor's protective spells hummed against his senses and Draco gasped as a huge ghostly stag bounded through the wall. Narcissa rose to her feet, her eyes wide as it cantered forward.

The deer's rack swivelled as it took in the room and Narcissa gestured. The stag touched its nose to her palm and she closed her eyes. "Mr Potter."

Withdrawing her wand, Narcissa flicked it at the Malfoy Banner lowering the ancient chart until the tips of the stag's antlers graced over the old cloth. Potter's voice rolled forth from the stag in unaccented practiced standardized French. " _Toujours Pur._ "

The banner flared with magic, a few of the snake branches filling in with information, but two spots remained empty. And bloody hell, if the fancy bit of spell work and Potter's magnificent Patronus didn't impress the hell out of him. It shouldn't have worked, but of course this was Potter and everything he touched seemed to shine. Draco sighed and eyed the new additions as well as the still missing holes. Well, well perhaps Potter wasn't so high and mighty after all. He sneered at the marks on the banner. "It didn't work."

Narcissa stiffened. "Andromeda and cousin Sirius did not appear."

The stag backed away from the banner and Draco could almost hear the clip-clop of its non-corporeal hoofs on the marble flooring. "Can you take a response back to Potter that it was unsuccessful?"

"Incomplete, but not unsuccessful," Narcissa amended.

The stag stepped forward, nudged Draco's arm then dissipated. Draco closed his eyes. "Blast!"

"Draco!"

"Get your cloak, Mother. I'm taking you home. We're going to see Potter."

Narcissa gasped then nodded, sweeping from toward the door. "Let me tell your Father."

"Tell him we are going shopping in London and that's all."

Narcissa stopped and turned to looked at Draco. "Draco?"

"Trust me, it's better if Father does not know where we are going."

"As you wish." Narcissa nodded and stepped out of the room.

Draco leaned closer to the banner and studied the banner. The places where Andromeda's and Sirius' names should have been were burnt black as if the magic from Potter's spell had overwhelmed the chart. Reaching up, he touched the banner. The cloth felt whole under his fingers, so the brand wasn't on his end of the spell, and Potter's comment about whether or not the spell would repair the family chart suddenly made more sense.

Narcissa entered the room, a cloak wrapped about her. She glanced up at the banner then took a deep breath. Placing a hand on Draco's arm, she nodded at him.

Draco led her over to the fireplace and tossed in a large handful of Floo Powder. "Number 12 Grimmauld Place." Draco tugged Narcissa into the fireplace and clung to her as they spun through the grates.

Potter was at the table, drinking from a large mug when Narcissa and Draco stepped forth. He stood and continued to drink from the mug while Draco cleaned away the soot from their clothing. As soon as Draco tucked his wand way, Potter lowered his mug.

"Welcome to Grimmauld Place."

"Thank you for having us, Mr Potter."

Potter inclined his head. "I'm sorry the spell didn't work."

"Oh, but it did, just not completely. So, I do want to thank you for contributing to the restoration of my family."

Potter studied Narcissa, and Draco took the time to make his own observations of Potter. Potter was dressed in a homemade jumper that clung to his chest and Draco could see a white undershirt beneath the jumper. Low slung denim trousers hung on his hips, the end of his jeans gracing over the tops of his pale bare feet and swept the bare wooden floor.

Potter stepped out from behind the table and gestured for them to follow. Outside the kitchen, he took Mrs Malfoy's cloak and hung it on the coat tree. "The Black Family tapestry is damaged so I wasn't for certain if the spell would work at all."

"Damaged?" Narcissa inquired.

Harry nodded and led Draco and Narcissa up two floors to the room with the tapestry. He stood aside and let them into the room, and Draco stared at the wall in awe. The Black family tapestry was old and covered one entire wall. The family crest and motto was gilded and the golden threads were still shiny throughout even though the cloth looked threadbare and moth-eaten. The same places that were blackened out on his banner were charred holes here. He wondered how it happened. Since Potter had given his magic for Narcissa, Draco was going to return the favour.

Draco stepped up and set his wand against the wall. Knowing the spell wouldn't completely repair the age old damage, but hoping it would prolong and revitalize any preservation spells on the ancient chart. He cast with a deep and solemn tone, forcing all his intent into the family motto. " _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper Totalus_!"

"No!" Potter shouted, and Draco remembered Potter's affliction.

"Shite!"

The magic lit up the tapestry, surging up the golden thread like lightning, and Potter stiffened. An ozone scent filled the air and Draco stared at Potter, waiting for more of a reaction. Ignoring his mother exclamations, Draco reached out for Potter's arm, shoving up the jumper's sleeve and wrapping his fingers around Potter's wrist.

He took his eyes off Potter long enough to watch the tapestry. The cloth rippled as the magic rolled over it, the glimmering strands knitting some of the moth eaten bits together and brightening the lines as it revitalized the chart. Potter leaned heavily against Draco, and Draco stepped even closer to him, switching hands on Potter's wrist and wrapping an arm about his shoulders for support.

The spell dispersed and Draco stared at the tapestry. It looked in better shape, although the burnt bits still showed the wall behind the tapestry.

"What did you do?" Potter whispered, then his eyes rolled up in his head and he crumpled in Draco's arms.

Draco staggered and dragged Potter over to one of the sofas in the room. He draped Potter over the lounger and clutched his head in his hands. "Shite! Shite! Shite!"

"Despite the circumstances there is no need for vulgarity, Draco," Narcissa's voice was soft.

Draco jerked his head up and stared at her. He'd forgotten she was there.

She tsked at him and drew her wand, aiming it at Potter.

"No!"

Narcissa blinked. "I'm just going to Rennervate him, Draco. There's no need for these theatrics."

"You can't. It won't end well if you do." Draco looked down at Potter then back at Narcissa. "Could you… can you try and call on Kreacher?"

Narcissa opened her mouth to do so but the fireplace flared up, the flames burning bright green and Ron Weasley stepped out.

His wand was in his hand before Draco could even speak. Draco moved to the sofa and sank down beside Potter. The tip wavered back and forth between him and Narcissa.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

"Mr Weasley," Narcissa began and Weasley focused on her. "Mr Potter invited us, and if you would be so kind as to lower your wand. You would see he is incapacitated at the moment."

Weasley gasped and his eyes narrowed. "What did you do to him?"

"Backlash from a spell," Draco interrupted before Narcissa could speak. "I tasted ozone and then he collapsed. I didn't want to cast any more magic on him. It was my fault. I was helping him with the tapestry."

He looked down at Potter then back up at Weasley. "He helped my mother and I didn't mean to. I forgot it affected him, but it helps if I'm near when you cast."

"How do you know that?" Weasley pointed his wand at Draco, now. "Why do you know that?"

Draco swallowed. "He showed me yesterday."

Weasley shook his head. "Harry wouldn't have. He'd have told me if he had. All he said was he need me to come by because he was feeling poorly, and I find you two here and Harry unconscious on the sofa. I don't believe you, Malfoy."

Draco rested his hand on Potter's head.

"Stop touching him!"

"Rennervate him, Weasley."

"You're mad if you think I'm going to cast spells on my friend when it causes him harm. We keep some Muggle things around to wake him when something like this happens."

Draco arched a brow. "You make it a habit of using magic to send Potter into a comatose state?"

Weasley narrowed his eyes. "No, but since the end of the war, it's been a practice to make certain we had various supplies around for any type of casualty. Harry's never forgiven himself--" Weasley shook his head. "Don't know why I'm telling you this. Back away from him and leave."

"No."

Draco could see the muscles in Weasley jaw tense and his hand twitched, making his wand jump in Draco's direction. "Look, Malfoy, Harry called me because he knew he was going to be affected by this task he was doing for you, and he didn't want to be alone. I'll take care of him."

"Mr Weasley…" Narcissa said softly, and Weasley aimed at her next.

"Please cast the spell. I'd like to hear more about this condition. I may be of some help." Narcissa offered a sardonic smile. "I have experience with madness in its various forms."

Weasley's eyes bugged. "Harry's not mad!"

"She didn't say he was, Weasley. Calm down!" Draco snarled. "Just cast the bleeding spell, and let him speak for himself. I want to finish the tapestry and go home, too. However, since it is through my actions that Potter is in this state, I am willing to help ease his return to consciousness."

"Fine, just fine, but he'd better confirm everything you say or I will have the Aurors here in two shakes of a crup's tail."

Draco braced himself as Weasley wand came up. He saw the tip spark as he heard the words of the spell and jolted as he hung on to Potter's shoulders.

"Ugh," Potter groaned.

The taste of Weasley's spell, a light mix of copper and iron, ghosted over his tongue and Draco pulled a face. Apparently, it was the same face Potter was making because Weasley's eyes were once again the size of saucers.

"Water," Potter croaked.

Kreacher popped into the room a carafe on a tray with several glasses. A tea tray appeared next with an assortment of other foods and dishes. Potter shook his head.

"Kreacher is providing lunch for Master's proper guests."

Potter sighed as he sat up and dislodged Draco. He scowled at Draco, and Draco smirked at him in return as he settled beside him on the small sofa. "Fine, whatever, Kreacher."

Kreacher settled everything on the low table in front of the sofa as Weasley and Narcissa chose seats across from them. Kreacher served Narcissa and she murmured her thanks as Weasley began filling a plate.

The entire situation was rather tense and surreal considering Weasley had wanted to curse him and his mother but a few moments ago. Potter still had a glazed sort of look about him and the lingering spell taste on his tongue, though mild, really was disturbing.

Draco poured Potter a glass of water and offered it to him before preparing his own. He sat back, sipping the cool drink and nodded as the taste slipped off his tongue. "Tell Weasley it was an accident and that your tongue condition...likes me."

Potter spit out the water he'd been drinking and Weasley dropped the biscuit he'd picked up off his plate. Draco smirked.

"Draco!"

"Please. Why else would he share such a _wonderful_ thing with me, of all people?" Draco eyed Potter and Potter glared at him.

Not wishing to raise Potter's ire to the levels of yesterday, Draco looked away. "Whenever a spell is cast around Potter, he can taste the magic. I experienced this yesterday after seeing Daphne and her sister, Astoria, off on the Express."

Potter grunted. "Hermione and Ginny said they'd owl."

Weasley nodded. "Got it. Hermione wants you to write her, too. You can use Pig."

Potter opened his mouth and Weasley looked at him, his eyebrows met his hair line. Potter slumped on the sofa.

Draco watched Weasley and Potter. Their dynamic was interesting and the randomness of the conversation was jolting, but Weasley steered things around before Draco could.

Weasley grunted and shoved a pickle in his mouth. "How'd you come to cast spells on the Hogwarts platform?"

Potter sighed. "I didn't. Well, I did sorta. He grabbed me as I went through the barrier. Then as we were arguing I did cast a spell and it made him sick up." He grinned at Weasley. Weasley chuckled.

Mortified, Draco continued. "I was overcome initially but prevailed, then followed Potter here--"

"Hijacked a ride on my Apparition, you mean!"

"Well, you wouldn't speak with me!"

Draco glared at Potter.

"Gentlemen, if I may inject something into the conversation," Narcissa interrupted.

Potter leaned back against the sofa and nodded at her.

"When did you first notice this...taste sensation of magic?"

Potter pursed his lips. "A few months after the last battle."

Narcissa nodded, and Draco watched her process the information, wondering what he had missed. "Nothing ever beforehand? Or after you were legally connected and informed of the passing of the Black Family inheritance?"

Potter started. "No, why?"

Narcissa held up a hand. "Do not be alarmed. Everything cousin Sirius did to pass the line to you was legal… in the Muggle world. Since Kreacher obeys you, the magic laws of the line abide by it as well, I was just considering association. As you know, many members of the Black line were prone to instability. It is why my mother insisted on a marriage pure but more outside of the Black lines."

Potter nodded. "Sirius told me before he was killed. He also said it was his mum that blasted him and the rest of the 'unsuitable' family members off the tapestry. But what does that have to do with my… condition?"

"Walburga had many… issues, the least of which was how she dealt with her wayward family." Narcissa waved it away as if it was nothing, and Draco supposed it was, for them. They were used to dealing with eccentrics within the family. Potter and Weasley stared at her as if she'd lost her mind but Narcissa continued on as if the nonverbal byplay hadn't even occurred. "Mr Potter, there are neurological conditions as well as physical ones that affect the lines with madness, especially when it is so entwined."

"That has nothing to do with magic," Weasley interrupted. "Just because Sirius made Harry his legal heir doesn't mean that the colossal madness that affects the line will suddenly manifest in him."

"You are correct, Mr Weasley," Narcissa continued. "However, Mr Potter is already in the line. If you will check the tapestry, I believe there is a Charleus Potter three generations back that, once connected properly, will be revealed to be Mr Potter's grandfather."

"Again, what's that have to do with anything about Harry?"

Narcissa rubbed her fingertips on her temples.

Potter turned and eyed the tapestry. "Someone in the family suffered from this?"

Narcissa looked up and shook her head. "No, not that particular form of it, but my great aunt Cassiopeia was rumoured to have a condition in which she saw letters and numbers in color. No one knew what caused it. In order to prevent the condition from passing on, she was never permitted to marry. I believe, though, through my own research, the exact term is synthesia."

Potter stared at Narcissa, and so did Draco. Narcissa never spoke of her family. He'd only recently begun to hear about the Black side because of her giving him the task of filling in the Malfoy banner.

"And you believe this could be some form of it passed down through the bloodlines?" Draco asked.

Narcissa nodded. "I'm terribly sorry, Mr Potter. I looked into the conditions when I was pregnant with Draco. I believe that it's an overstimulation of the senses. Since, as witches and wizards, we in essence have an extra sense, it appears yours has manifested with a magic-taste derivative. It is permanent, I am afraid, and there is nothing that can be done for it." She pursed her lips. "The one man whom I believe could have helped you is gone."

Stunned to see this intellectual side of his mother, Draco could do nothing but stare at her. Potter eyed her as well but then made his decision.

"It's not."

Draco turned. "What? Why? It makes sense. Better than thinking what you told me about the Dark Lord."

Potter smiled. "I appreciate that and the explanation but I know it isn't congenital. See--"

"Harry, you don't owe them anything." Weasley grumbled.

"I think I do, especially since Malfoy is actively involved now."

Weasley turned crimson. "You've got to be joking, Harry!"

"No, Ron, I'm not. It helps having him here, and I'm going to see what that means."

Weasley groaned. "Merlin, not more experiments!"

"Experiments?" Draco straightened. "Just a minute, yesterday, you wanted to Obliviate me…"

"Harry!"

"Shut it, Weasley." Draco snapped. "You want me to experiment with you? Explore why we have some sort of … connection?"

"Draco, I don't believe this course of action is wise."

Draco held up a hand to Narcissa. "Answer me, Potter."

Potter nodded. "Help me finish the tapestry and see what this thing with the synesthesia--" he paused and looked over at Narcissa. She nodded. "I'm certain I know it isn't congenital, but this will rule it out."

"Well, I want to see what it means, too, then. It could affect your children, Draco."

Draco gaped at her. That had been a quick turn around and he narrowed his eyes at her. She smirked at him.

"I think this is a bad idea. A really, bad idea," Weasley grumbled.

Potter shrugged. "It may be, but this is my life now, Ron, and I've got to live with it. If Malfoy can help me do so." He looked at Draco.

Draco stared at Potter. He stared into Potter's green eyes and studied his face. The determined expression was almost betrayed by the desperation displayed in his eyes. He'd never realized how much Potter gave away by his eyes. He nodded.

"I still think this is a bad idea," Weasley murmured.

"I'm willing to take the chance." Potter stood, looking down at Draco, and Draco felt extremely hot all over. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought Potter was using Legilimency on him. He stood, so he could be on equal footing. They eyed one another in the heavy silence until Draco couldn't stand it any longer and looked away first.

"I have a few things I'd like to complete at the manor today, but I can meet you here for dinner, if you like."

"Thank you."

Potter bit at his lip, and Draco resisted the urge to reach up and press his fingers against Potter's lips to stop his fidgeting. "I can have Kreacher prepare you a room here, if you don't mind staying for a few days."

"Harry!" Draco ignored Weasley and apparently Potter had, too, because he continued to look at Draco, waiting for an answer. He didn't have a chance because Narcissa gave it for him.

Narcissa stood. "Draco, see me home, and you can prepare a bag. I will make your excuses to Lucius."

Draco snorted, and then nodded. "I'll see you in a few hours, Potter."

Harry nodded, then turned to Narcissa. "Harry Potter lives at Number 12 Grimmauld Place."

Narcissa's eyes widened and Weasley groaned. Potter just chuckled as he tossed in the Floo powder for her. "All I ask is that you do not tell your husband my exact location."

Narcissa smiled at Potter and Draco felt a little fissure of jealousy shoot through him as she cupped his cheek. Potter flinched and she frowned at him. "I trust you with my son, Mr Potter, and I know that some secrets are worth keeping for family."

Draco huffed out a breath. "I can take care of myself." He raised his wand then reached out and gripped Potter's shoulder before Summoning their cloaks. The charm took his breath away for a moment, and Potter grinned sheepishly at him.

"We will be discussing all affects of every spell when I return."

Potter inclined his head.

"Malfoy Manor," Narcissa called and stepped into the Floo.

"Potter. Weasley." Draco stood before Potter for a moment then tossed in a handful of powder and followed her through the flames.

  
~*~

 

Harry stood at the mantle thinking about all he'd heard, knowing Ron was waiting for more of an explanation, but at the moment he could quite find the right words. He didn't even know himself why he'd invited Malfoy to his home, except that he wanted something from Malfoy. He just didn't know if he could ask him for it, or even if he knew what _it_ was.

Using the synesthesia – he was glad to have a name for it, even if was different than his condition – was sort of a devious way to go about it but he could live with that.

"You want to tell me what all that was about?"

Harry turned around and smiled at Ron. "The magic is less when Malfoy is around."

"Got that much, but you didn't tell me how you know it. If I wasn't so certain it didn't matter to you, I'd think you were buying into all the pureblood nonsense." Ron grabbed a sandwich and sprawled across the chair as he ate. "Seriously, Harry, I don't like this. I don't think you can trust him."

Harry frowned, moving over to the sofa. Sinking down, he eyed the lunch tray Kreacher had set out and picked up a carrot stick. "Despite being a git, he's done everything I said, and he did help me with the tapestry."

Harry tossed the carrot back on the tray and stood, going over to the wall and carefully running a hand over the cloth. "Look at it, Ron. His spell made it brighter. Almost a year I've been working on trying to repair this and nothing has worked."

Turning around, Harry looked at Ron. "Will you… can you do what Malfoy did?"

Ron stared up at him. "You want to connect our lines?"

Harry nodded. "You're practically family, and there's already a Weasley on here. Will it work?"

Ron sighed. "I suppose. Mum and Dad never were much on the blood lines and all, but yeah, we learned it. I don't want you to get hurt by my spell, though."

"I'll sit on the sofa while you do it."

Ron bowed his head, then pushed to his feet. "Go sit down."

Harry scurried over to the sofa and turned to watch. He grabbed a sandwich and ate slowly while Ron examined the family tree. "Malfoy does good work, I'll say that much for the git." He turned back and looked at Harry. "You should get Neville for the Longbottom line. Mum, too; she's a Prewett. I don't know how much my magic will work since I'm low man in the heir line for Weasley, but it's better than nothing. We can have some of my other brothers try, too, if it doesn't work well."

Harry smiled. "You can do it."

Ron grinned and took a deep breath as he turned to the tapestry. Laying his wand on the burnt place where Septimus Weasley's name could just barely be read, Ron intoned in his deep voice. " _Ubi Cor Ibi Domus Totalus_!"

_Home is where the heart is_ , indeed, Harry thought, as a spicy sensation filled his mouth. Ron's magic tasted of old leather and treacle, reminding Harry of home.

The magic in Ron's blood was true enough as the white light glowed bright on the tip of Ron's wand. The yellow of the threads brightened and the tapestry ruffled against the wall. The branches connected once more, filling and knitting in the hole blasted through the cloth by Walburga. Septimus and Cedrella's name shone golden then Ron's family began to branch off.

The tapestry grew, stretching out on to the next wall as more and more names appeared. Harry jumped up and ran over to see the magic finish with Ron and Ginny, then a little bud appeared next to Bill and Fleur.

Ron bent double and began laughing.

"What?"

Ron straightened. "Oh, man. Now, I know what's going on. Bill called a family dinner for this weekend. There hasn't been one since last year and Charlie's even coming in. That's why." He pointed at the little leaf that was slowly unfurling on the tapestry. "Fleur's pregnant!"

Harry laughed. "Congratulations! A nephew."

Ron nodded. "Can't believe I know before mum. That's a treat. Thanks, Harry."

Harry slapped him on the back and turned back to the tapestry. He studied it, fingers gracing over the newly mended area. "Wonder why Malfoy's spell didn't fix Sirius and Andromeda?"

"He's not true heir to the Blacks."

Harry looked at Ron. "Think I can do it?"

Ron shrugged. "Maybe. The magic recognizes you, but I don't want you trying it right now. You can also find the Potter line and do that too."

Harry nodded and looked back at the tapestry. "I will."

  
~*~

 

Harry was just starting the cake Kreacher made when Malfoy Floo'd into the kitchen. "Have you eaten? I can have Kreacher make up something."

Malfoy shook his head. "Father knows I am with you, but he doesn't know where we are."

Harry clenched his hands together. "Is Mrs Malfoy well?"

"Why wouldn't she be?"

Harry dropped his fork on the plate. "Look, I don't have a very good impression of your father, and while I didn't have one of your mother either, she has taken steps to redeem herself."

Malfoy eyed him. "You have a soft spot for girls."

"No, I just don't think anyone should be treated… unkindly."

Malfoy smirked. "Mother can hold her own. She has Father exactly where she wants him. In fact, I'd go so far as to say, you've a champion in her now."

Though the words were said smoothly, Harry studied Malfoy. "Is that so?"

Malfoy shrugged off his cloak and draped it over his arm before sitting down at the table. Kreacher came, setting a tea cup for Malfoy and took his cloak. "Master Draco Malfoy's luggage?"

"In the right pocket of my cloak. Lay out my pyjamas and dressing gown, if you would."

Kreacher bowed and popped out of the kitchen. Malfoy made a face. "Why does he taste of vinegar?"

Harry laughed. "I think it's because I associate him with cleaning and service."

"You clean with vinegar?"

Harry hummed. "Muggles sometimes do. It's not just for fish and chips, you know."

Malfoy's nose wrinkled. "You put it on your fish?"

Laughing, Harry stood. "Yes, we plebeians have such unrefined tastes."

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

Harry led Malfoy out of the kitchen and upstairs into the tapestry room. Malfoy drew in a breath. "You've worked on it more."

Harry settled on the sofa and crossed his legs. "No, Ron added his magic and it repaired the one breach. You might want to check your own chart to see if more lines have surfaced. I can wait if you want."

Malfoy shook his head then moved away from the wall. "No. I believe Mother would let me know if something significant were to appear. Personally, I believe she is waiting to see if Andromeda's line will appear."

Harry sighed. "She won't come here and try to heal the rift."

"After that day in the alley, I didn't think she would. If she's anything like Mother, once she's set her mind to something, it would take an act of Merlin to change it."

Chuckling, Harry nodded.

"I did notice, however, that she was very open with you today."

"Oh?"

"Despite previous attitudes and actions, family is very important to Mother. I've never heard her speak about her relations as much as she has since she asked me to complete our banner."

Harry smiled. "Doesn't surprise me in the least, considering what she did in the Dark Forest."

Malfoy inclined his head. "I still don't know, so you'll have to enlighten me."

Harry licked his lips and enjoyed the way Malfoy focused on him. "She lied to Voldemort."

Malfoy's eyes went wide and his face paled, and Harry sat up, reaching across the table toward him. "Are you all right?"

"She lied to him?"

Harry nodded. "For you. Once I told her you were alive, she lied to keep me alive."

Malfoy closed his eyes, slumping back against the chair. Harry watched him, waiting to see what, if anything, Malfoy had to say.

When Malfoy still didn't say anything, Harry knew he had to, he had to fix the tense and uncomfortable silences his words had wrought. "Parents have their reasons, and I only can imagine at why their intentions work they way they do."

Malfoy's eyes opened, the pale grey colour was liquid and wary, as if he recalled the things he'd said about Harry's parents, about all the hostilities in the past. Harry nodded at him, acknowledging the unspoken things between them. He was certain there would be more harsh words and actions considering their history but he had to let Malfoy know one thing.

Harry took Malfoy's hand, smiling at the fact he could touch him and not flinch away from Malfoy's magic. In fact he didn't even taste the other man at all. He just had this sense of balance as he held on to Malfoy's slightly sweaty palm. With a deep breath he set one long finger to the top of his hand and traced the old scar.

Malfoy glanced down and gasped as Harry manipulated his fingers. "They were put there three years ago, but they have always been true."

Harry looked up and met Malfoy's shocked gaze. "When it counts, I never tell lies, and something like that, like family, always counts."

  
~*~

 

Draco spent a restless night in a sparse but comfortable room. It wasn't as grandiose as his suite in the manor, but Grimmauld Place rather reminded him of the townhouse Theo and Daphne were seeking to purchase. As he wandered through the lower floors, Draco could see the renovating Potter had done and compared it to the modern abode of Theo's. He liked Potter's home better, despite the interesting conveniences in the new Nott Family house. The gas lights and dark wood furnishings gave the place character, though he was certain it had had that in spades before Potter had ever inherited the place.

Padding quietly down the stairs and into the basement kitchen, he wondered if Kreacher would prepare him some tea and toast. He'd learned to do so on his own, though he still wasn't the best at getting the tea steeped just the way he liked it, he could manage a passable cuppa and some lightly toasted bread without causing too much of a mess.

He shouldn't have worried though. Kreacher was already hard at work, and the kitchen was toasty warm. It felt different than the early morning at the manor when Dobby had been preparing breakfast and Draco thought he liked this atmosphere better.

"Morning, Kreacher. Is there a possibility of tea?"

Kreacher narrowed his eyes at Draco and Draco just waited. Settling at the table, he picked up the papers, eyed the Muggle ones with a faint bit of curiosity. He flicked the _Quibbler_ away with a snort of disgust and picked up the _Prophet_.

"Kreacher will prepare tea for Master Draco Malfoy."

"I appreciate that, Kreacher, thank you."

Kreacher grunted at him and Draco smirked as he unfolded the paper. He was just a quarter of the way into an article about the first Sorting of the new term when the paper was jerked out of his hands and Kreacher began shouting. The Prophet took to the air and Draco stared at it.

Soft, but excited hoots emanated from the paper while it bounced through air. it crashed into the wall, knocking off implements then landed on the counter before taking flight once more and hitting a cupboard door with a loud bang. Kreacher danced under it, some sort of metal net on a stick in his hand as he tried to catch the wayward periodical and yelled nonsensical epitaphs at the flying newspaper.

"Ruddy Pig! Can't read naught but addresses. Stupid bird. Making messes in Kreacher's kitchen. Mad to steal Master Draco Malfoy's paper."

Draco cottoned on to the idea that an owl was tangled up in the paper just as Potter slammed into the room, wand drawn.

Draco stared at him; half dressed, pyjamas low on his hips, glasses askew and hair even wilder than normal.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?"

The flying newspaper rammed into Potter's chest and he grunted, grasping the bundle with both hands. Draco smacked his lips, tasting newsprint and squid ink. "Post, I think. Does the _Prophet_ normally taste like squid ink?"

"Is that what it is? I just knew it was ink and hoped it wasn't poisonous." Potter blinked as he unwrapped the owl. "Oh, hello, Pig." He took a letter from the bird.

Draco shook his head. "Gather some parchment and a quill. I need a reference list of spells and tastes." He watched the little owl fly excitedly around Potter's head. "That thing is named Pig?"

Harry sat down at the table and smiled as he nodded. Parchment and the requested quill and inkpot appeared, then a tea kettle. Toast and butter, a plate of rashers, scones then several pots of jam appeared next. Empty dishes sprang up in front of Draco and a place setting for Potter, too.

"Thanks, Kreacher." Potter looked at Draco. "Better eat. When he's got the next bit done, this stuff disappears and he won't bring it back. But if it's on your plate, he'll leave that."

Potter loaded up his plate, and as soon as the toast serving dish was empty, it vanished. A bowl of scrambled eggs appeared in its place. Draco began filling his own plate more quickly.

Pig still flew around and around the room and the little owl's noises were beginning to grate on Draco's nerves. Potter though was apparently used to this behaviour and ignored him as he ate with one hand and began to write with the other. "You know about the Disillusion Charm, Apparition, Fidelus and Evanesco spells. You still want them on here?"

Draco wiped his mouth and nodded. "Yes, so we may distinguish the individual tastes and spells. You associate different magics with different tastes correct?"

Potter nodded.

"What about people?"

Potter looked up at him and Draco arched a brow. "You flinched when Mother touched you. I also noticed that when Granger was at the table that day, you made a face. Was she touching you?" He leaned across the table. "What do I taste like?"

Potter swallowed hard. "Yes, I taste people… er… well, their magic, too."

Draco nodded, waiting for him to continue. Potter wouldn't meet his eyes. He just stabbed at his eggs then began to speak.

"Most of what I taste when I have contact with someone is my impressions of them and what they mean to me. The spells are more consistent."

Draco hummed. "You didn't answer the question."

"Yes, I did," Potter snapped and opened his post, ignoring Draco for the moment.

Draco spread jam on his toast wondering why Potter wouldn't answer his question.

"Oh! Molly and Neville agreed to come and spell the tapestry in a few weeks. Neville's to arrange some time away from his studies with Professor Sprout."

Draco looked up and found Potter smiling at him. It took his breath away and he found himself smiling in return. "Oh?"

Potter's smile widened and Draco's throat closed up. "He took his N.E.W.Ts and is getting his teaching certificate by correspondence."

"Ah. Never considered Longbottom as a professor."

"Me either, but I believe in him."

"That's a great endorsement, and I mean that sincerely."

Potter's smile dazzled him again and Draco looked away. He heard Potter flip over the parchment and respond to his letter, and Draco watched him as he continued to eat.

  
~*~

 

"You expect me to climb on that broom with you after what you told me?"

Harry gripped the handle and tried not to grin. "I want to fly. I haven't been able to since that incident and I miss it."

"Potter, brooms are single flyers only."

"We did well enough in the Room of Lost Things."

Malfoy glared at him and Harry tried again not to laugh. "The fires of hell were after us. Not something I want to repeat."

Harry shrugged. "Details."

Malfoy blinked. "Fiendfyre, one of the darkest and most destructive dark arts spells, and you are calling it 'details'?"

Harry nodded. "Look, the lawn outside in the back of the house is protected. Kingsley Shacklebolt himself cast the spells so that I could fly here undetected if I wanted. It's a small space, but large enough for a couple of circles. Plus, it gives us a few spells to test as well. The ones on the broom and the protections spells."

"No Disillusionment Charms."

"Oh, bloody hell, no." Harry agreed. "Last time I tried this I got wool from the Cushioning Charm but never got off the ground for anything else. We know Fidelius is bitter. I've got a canteen, so let's try it."

Malfoy eyed the broom then Harry once more and sighed. "Fine, but I'm steering."

"I don't think so."

"What? Why not?"

Here's where Harry had some flaws in his plan. He wanted to fly, but in order for him to do so, he needed to touch the broom. To dull the synesthesia, Malfoy had to touch him, and the only way for them to do this right for for Harry to control the broom. However, this meant that Malfoy would have to wrap his arms around Harry to negate the effects. Last time, he'd been too bloody scared to think about how they were flying, this time, though, and all he could think of was Malfoy's body wrapped around his.

Perhaps he should let Malfoy fly and he'd hold on to Malfoy. No, that wasn't going to help either and he pinked as he readied to answer Malfoy's question. "You can't guide the broom and hang on to me well enough to null out the effects of the magic. It has to be the other way around."

Malfoy arched a brow. "All right. Sound reasoning. We'll try it your way."

Harry blew out a breath. "Right. Well, I reckon the best way to go about this would be for me to hover then for you to climb on behind me."

Malfoy nodded and waited as Harry mounted up on his broom. He reached out and pressed a hand to Harry's shoulder and the woolly taste of the Cushioning Charm diminished. Harry grinned at him.

Malfoy nodded and Harry lifted up on the broom, hovering right in front of Malfoy. The broom's Levitating Charms left a dry taste in his mouth and he licked his lips, not wanting to reach for the canteen just yet.

Once Harry was used to the taste, he sank down low enough for Malfoy to climb on behind him. The broom dipped even lower with Malfoy's weight, and he rested his hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry pulled up hard on the broom handle.

They rocked on the air currents and Malfoy leaned closer to him, moving his hands from Harry's shoulders to his waist. Harry leaned back into him, grinning as the taste sensations lessened. He shot forward on the broom.

Malfoy yelped and tightened his hold on Harry as they swerved through the air. The wind blew around them and Harry caught a long strand of blond hair in his mouth. He tasted mint and something slightly soapy on Malfoy's hair before the air tore it away.

Harry laughed and swooped around, circling the yard again, leaning as they made the turn. Malfoy's hands were warm on his skin through his shirt and he drew in a breath as the cool air ripped at his clothing. Malfoy's fingers graced over his stomach, searing his skin.

Malfoy adjusted on the broom too, moving closer to Harry's back and blanketed him with his body heat. Harry could feel the warm and moist puffs of air as he breathed and the steady beat of Malfoy's heart against his back. The closeness almost took his breath away and he sucked in a gasp when Malfoy murmured across his ear. "Faster, Potter, faster."

With those words, Harry's cock hardened so fast he was certain he'd strained himself. It certainly made his seat on the broom more uncomfortable to say the least, and he wriggled a bit trying to adjust – the rubbing against the handle didn't help any.

"Yes," Harry moaned and complied, leaning forward over the broom and pulling Malfoy more on top of him as he did. Malfoy's breathing sped, his arms tightened around Harry's waist as they careened around and around.

The wind whipped around them, biting at his flesh, but all Harry felt was Malfoy's warmth and the thudding of his heart. His pants against Harry's ear, goading him on were breathy and sounded, to Harry's imagination, almost like dirty nothings even though he knew they weren't anything of the sort.

Harry wasn't certain how long they were outside but he noticed he was cold and the words Malfoy was saying finally registered.

"Potter, I'm freezing my arse off. Take us down."

Coming to hover once more, Harry waited while Malfoy slid off the back of the broom, and tried not to notice the bulge in his robes before the cloth fell straight.

"Thank you," Harry said as he landed.

Malfoy nodded. "Not a problem. It's been a while since I've enjoyed a ride like that myself."

Harry tried not to gape at him as Malfoy turned on his heel and stalked into the house.

  
~*~

 

Draco trudged up to the second floor and pushed into the room that Kreacher had prepared for him. The elf had once again set out his night clothes and Draco was grateful to have the services to utilize again.

He laid down face first on the bed for a moment, thinking about what he'd done today. It was almost like being back in school. Practicing spells with Potter, seeing which ones affected them in what ways, and how to counteract them.

The most effective manner to dull the effects happened when Draco touched Potter skin to skin. He closed his eyes as he thought about Potter's warm and calloused hand, his thick fingers clasped in Draco's hand, entwined with his own longer, thinner ones. However, the situation that had nearly floored Draco was when Potter decided he had wanted to fly.

Potter's stomach had been firm, the skin soft with a dense trail of hair around his navel. All this Draco had only felt as they flew. The coarse hairs tickled his palm, pushing against his hand and scalding the images on his memory with each breath Potter took, the entire time he'd held on to Potter has they flew.

Draco had walked around half aroused the rest of the afternoon, his imagination working overtime as he wondered how soon he could get Potter back up on that broom. The memory of the curve of Potter's back against his front was enough to force him into the bath to relieve himself of the ache.

Draco forced himself to manually fill the tub. He added a few potions and asked Kreacher to bring him a drink. Undressing, he check his face in the mirror and cleaned his teeth, then shaved, not that he needed it, but it took his mind away from thoughts of Potter.

Leaning back in the tub, Draco let the warm water soothe his body. He closed his eyes, trying to mentally let go, but the feel of Potter's body came back to him. His erection, close to flagging, came back with a vengeance.

He gripped his cock, stroking slowly, the water and potions smoothing the way. He moaned and spread his legs, bringing his knees up and canting his hips to thrust his prick into his fist. The unseen but remembered feel of Potter's body fuelled his fantasy. He knew his mind created something more than Potter was, it always had, but at this particular moment in time he didn't care.

He also had more to feed his lust now. Real memories of Potter smiling at him. The sound of Potter's voice in the morning, the way he looked just fresh from bed. He even knew the way Potter tasted when he cast a spell, and wasn't that the most erotic thing that he could ever dream of?

The shared intimacy of Potter's condition astounded Draco, forcing him to experience something he could have never thought of with anyone else. He didn't know what it would mean for them but he definitely wanted to continue to explore it. He just had to convince Potter. That thought, that image of Potter agreeing with him, and to anything else Draco wanted to pursue, forced him to stroke faster.

He sucked in a breath, biting on his lip to hold in the groans of pleasure as he moved his hand faster on his prick. HIs balls pulled close to his body and Draco cried out, semen spurting out over his fingers.

"Oh, oh gods, yes," Draco muttered. "Fuck." He continued to stroke through his orgasm, until his skin was overly sensitive. "Damn it, Potter, that was fucking amazing."

"Bloody hell."

Draco started. Potter stood in the bathroom door, his eyes wide. Draco swallowed, his eyes running down Potter's body and smirking at the obvious tent in his ratty looking trousers. "Voyeurism, Potter? How very naughty of you."

Potter shook his head, recovering slowly. "Not just me, Malfoy. Someone didn't close the door completely. Heard a noise and stayed for the show." He licked his lips and Draco tracked the slow slide of his tongue across his mouth. "I believe that's called exhibition."

Draco drew in a breath to retort and Potter held up his hand. "Don't say a word. I want to remember you just like this for tonight. I'll make certain to cast a Muffling Charm though, to ensure your comfort."

Potter turned and walked away. Draco groaned and laid his head back against the lip of the tub. A shrill whistle caught his attention and Draco opened one eye to see Potter at the door once more. He braced for the insult.

"The next time you wank over me like that, and I'd really like it to be _over_ me, I want to hear you call me Harry."

Draco stared at the empty space of the doorway for a long time after Pott-- Harry had left.

  
~*~

 

Draco tensed as the Floo sounded and Molly Weasley stepped out, followed by Neville Longbottom. He'd been expecting the pair, but really, nothing could have prepared him for the sight. It had been over a month since the letter had arrived. The Christmas hols were fast approaching, and while he and Harry had made tons of progress with the synesthesia, their relationship had stalled. So had the work on the tapestry.

Draco saw his friends. Harry had his. Rarely the two met, but sometimes, when they did, there weren't too many fires. The world revolved around them without falling apart and while they didn't always get on peacefully, it wasn't the same spiteful antagonism of the past. There was also too much sexual tension between them. They had unfinished business that Draco was settling one way or another. Tonight.

A sound drew him out of his ruminations and he found that he was being studied. Draco looked over the two people that could possible help Harry complete his goal.

The Weasley matron had killed his aunt, and, in one frightfully honest way, he wanted to thank her for freeing him from the insanity. She gave him a look of such pity, though, it rather pissed him off, and so he said nothing to her.

Longbottom on the other hand, stared him down with a look of contempt and took a step forward. Draco stood his ground, looking up at the man, and waiting to see what he would do.

Longbottom narrowed his eyes and shook his head at Draco. "If Harry hadn't already told us of what you were doing, and that it was helping him, Malfoy, you'd be Kneazle fodder."

Draco swallowed and nodded.

"Neville."

Draco saw Harry enter the room over Longbottom's shoulder, saw the change in the man's demeanour, and if he hadn't known that Longbottom was courting Hannah Abbott, then Draco would have wondered if Longbottom had some sort of feelings for Harry.

The two men embraced, slapping one another hard on the back before separating then Harry turned to embrace Molly. It was good to see Harry touching others again. It had been one of the things they had worked on and while he still had the sensations of other's magic, Draco's presence dulled that as well.

"We don't have long, Harry dear," Molly said, still eyeing Draco with that look on her face.

"I'll take you up."

Draco followed, listening to their chatter, and he waited while they examined the tapestry. Harry sat beside him on the sofa and when Draco reached for Harry's hand, Longbottom glared at him. Draco just smirked.

Molly extended her wand, touching the cloth.

Draco braced for the taste and shook his head at the thick treacle Harry associated with her entire family. It was strong though, even with the dulled condition of them touching, but Harry had a huge grin on his face so he endured the sickly sweetness.

Harry handed him a glass of water and he accepted it with a smirk and a nod. Harry pulled him up to examine the tapestry, seeing the additional lines but noticing that none of the blots Walburga had cast had been mended. The magic had strengthened the cloth, making the colours even brighter, the leaves of the trees waved as if a gentle breeze blew through the room and Draco swore he could hear the creaking of the branches.

Next time he was home he was going to see if the snakes appeared to be as alive as Harry's tree.

"Thank you, Molly," Harry said.

"I'm sorry it didn't work."

"But it did," Draco assured her and she turned to him. He swallowed and continued. "Your magic adds life to the tree. It doesn't matter that it didn't heal Walburga's marks because it strengthened the tapestry nonetheless."

The look of pity that she had been giving him the entire time dropped away and her mouth quirked. "Well, you do have proper manners, I had wondered. Thank you, Mr Malfoy."

Draco bowed his head and Harry squeezed his hand.

Longbottom stepped close and peered at the wall. "I think my contribution will do the same thing as Molly's."

"You heard what Draco said, Neville. Go on and try. We'll come by and start your chart after the holidays," Harry offered.

Longbottom nodded. "Gran's looking forward to it. She's got a space already picked out in our library. I think she wants a banner instead of a tapestry though. She can't make up her mind."

Harry nodded and Draco tugged him back to the sofa. Molly sat across from them, smiling as Kreacher brought her tea and biscuits, and more water for he and Harry.

Bracing his feet, Longbottom pressed his wand to his ancestor's name. " _Fortiter Totalus_!"

Draco heard a strange sort of resonance in Longbottom's voice and shivered as his magic swelled in the room. Then the taste him hit, and nothing could have prepared him for the strength of it. He grabbed his glass and drank down a large swallow of water to wash away the taste. It wasn't entirely pleasant but it wasn't completely awful either. He couldn't describe the sensation but it jolted Draco, and he looked over at Harry.

Harry stared, transfixed, at the tapestry, so Draco turned and looked.

The tapestry had expanded and Draco stood. He pulled Harry up and walked over to the wall, staring at the additions. Starting with Harfang Longbottom, the lines grew, crossing through the Weasleys, Yaxley, Flint and Harry gasped.

Draco saw it immediately and wondered if old Walburga would roll over in her grave. He was certain his father would have something to say about the newest addition. He could look forward to receiving an owl tonight from the looks of the new branch.

Draco's eyes widened as Lupin appeared on the chart, filling in with the name of Lyall and Hope Howell. Remus appeared as well. The golden threads connected to a burnt spot and it flared with light, the cloth weaving together to correct and repair Andromeda Black. Gilt strands wrote out Ted and Nymphadora Tonks, combining the two families with a small little leaflet bearing the name of Teddy.

"Wow," Harry breathed and reached up to touch the new addition.

Longbottom laughed. "Look at that!" He slapped Harry on the back.

"It's almost complete."

Harry nodded.

"This should help," Longbottom said and handed Harry a bit of parchment. "That's the Potter Family motto. Hermione helped me find it for you. She also said you'd know what this meant." He screwed up his face as he remembered her words. "'Always the tone of surprise. Ron and I were both right. Potter first, then Black for completion. Use Malfoy.'"

Potter laughed. "All right then, brightest witch of our age." He read over the parchment then handed it to Draco.

Draco took the slip and read over the words, looking up at Harry for a moment. "You know where this comes from, don't you?"

Harry shook his head and Draco sighed. "Your father would be so disappointed."

"Malfoy," Longbottom growled.

Draco held up his hands. "I didn't mean anything nasty. Didn't you read this, Longbottom?"

Longbottom shook his head. "I don't read other people's post."

Draco rolled his eyes.

Harry poked him. "Go on, tell us."

"Your Family Motto is a derivative from one of the oldest and first families of the Wizarding world. The male line died out ages ago, though. I suppose, since Granger found this, somewhere it lived on in a witch somewhere."

Harry smirked, and Draco narrowed his eyes. "You knew."

Harry nodded. "Yes, well about the oldest ties, but not the motto."

"Who is it, Harry?" Longbottom asked. "Not that I care mind you. Just curious."

"Watch and see."

Harry took Draco's hand and they lifted their wands, touching the tapestry, together. But only Harry spoke. " _Vigilantia et Virtute Totalus_!"

Gold light zipped across the tapestry. The Potter line progressed then backtracked, regressing up the tree, bypassing the Blacks by generations. Draco watched it flow downwards, though, until James Potter and Lily Evans appeared. A leaf formed just beneath the pair.

"Now, Harry. The Black one, together."

" _Tourjours Pur Totalus_!"

Bright, white light joined the gilded one still threading through the tapestry. The burnt sections shined and Draco squinted in the hot glares. The cloth flapped against the wall while lines bisected, joined and criss-crossed. The holes repaired, names reappeared then the lights dimmed except for one last thread.

Black and gold thread entwined and drew a line from James and Lily's leaf to Sirius Black. Harry's name appeared in the leaf, completing the connections.

Harry squeezed Draco's hand as he looked up at the whole chart, which now encompassed all four walls of the room. He leaned against Draco. "Thank you," Harry whispered.

"Expect an owl from Mother. Possibly even a visit."

"Later. First, you are going to show me how to close off the Floo. We have unfinished business."

Draco sucked in a breath as he looked at Harry.

"The Peverells!" Longbottom exclaimed, drawing Draco out of his study of Harry. He smirked as Harry shook his head.

The Weasley matron gasped. "Like in the old stories. Oh, Harry, how romantic. You've finally found your family."

"Yeah," Harry laughed. "I just had to connect the lines."

The End


End file.
